


The Long Journey

by TheStrangeSeaWolf



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Acceptance, Anxiety, Anxious Doctor (Doctor Who), Bullying, Depression, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fields of Trenzalore, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, He is in love and this is pretty frightening for a 2000-year-old who has been through a lot okay?, Insecurity, Interspecies Romance, Kissing, Mentioned Donna Noble, POV Twelfth Doctor, Picnics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Romantic Fluff, Showers, Soft Twelfth Doctor, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy, Trust, Understanding, compliments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 49,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24407377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrangeSeaWolf/pseuds/TheStrangeSeaWolf
Summary: After fighting for hundreds of years on Trenzalore, the twelfth incarnation of the Doctor isn’t accustomed to any form of tenderness anymore. Sure, he is the confident, witty, callous Time Lord when he’s out adventuring. But inside, he is haunted by his past experiences, losses, guilt, fears and insecurities.It is quite a journey to overcome those, made possible because Clara is willing to do the impossible: to understand and accept that when it comes to love this Time Lord, you need time.Can be read as a sequel to “A Simple Adventure”.Rated E because some people can be offended by the mere idea of Twelve and Clara having sex. This is a story about physical and mental closeness, so this is also a story about sex. But if you are looking for smut, you probably will be  disappointed.Kind of an AU where instead of denying and evading their feelings and lying to each other they try to understand each other, as difficult as it is for a human and a Time Lord.If Russian is your native language you can findthe translation by Al'bina here.
Relationships: The Doctor & The Doctor's TARDIS, Twelfth Doctor & Martha Jones, Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Comments: 247
Kudos: 159





	1. Things

**Author's Note:**

> In the [„Simple Adventure“](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22506916/chapters/53781583) I have, more by accident than by plan, created a AU setting that lead to this story: When the Doctor established his first closer telepathic bond with a human being ever, when Clara discovered the vault that holds his emotions, he learned that while bonding with this human, something happens to the body, not only the mind.
> 
> I think the topic of Twelve and Clara having sex has been played in all possible forms with all possible kinks on this platform and I have personally read enough to not feel the need to add another one. Instead, most things sexual in here are happening in your mind. Pretty much like they happen for the Doctor.
> 
> This is the story of a Time Lord who, despite having seen and experienced a lot of things in his 2,000 years of living, discovers a whole new aspect of himself and of being together with another being. His experiences in the past have shaped him and, to some extent, crippled him, but now, he has a woman beside him who is willing to embark on every adventure with him and to discover a world that is new to her just as much. It’s a story of finding, understanding and exploring each other, of facing down fears, of accepting the differences and discover the beauty of simply being together with a soulmate.

„What worries you, daft old man?”

The Doctor was standing at the console and Clara reached around him, hugging him from behind and resting her head between his shoulder blades. It felt nice. Protective. Caring. He rested his hands on her arms and relaxed a bit.

There were so many things that worried him. Realizing that he loved Clara and that she loved him, too, had been wonderful. He was quite a mess of chemicals if he was honest with himself. And this made things extremely complicated because he needed to think about so many things, and he wanted to do so many things but at the same time he was hardly able to think straight.

He kneaded her small, muscular arm and marveled once again how good it felt, so warm, so tight, so alive, so… her. He wanted to be there for her, he wanted to be a good man and most important: he didn’t want to hurt her. Which made many things very, very difficult. Including talking about certain things. Especially as this incarnation was not especially good at talking when it came to emotional things. Things were developing to become things… and then, there were… things.

“Many things, Clara Oswald, many, many things.”

It was the truth and, not knowing where to start and what and how to say it, he left it at that.

“You can talk about them, you know, those things. Even if you don’t know how to start or what to say… just speak your mind.”

She tightened her grip and pressed her chin in that special spot between his shoulder blades. He knew she was looking up to the back of his head. He loved the pressure she applied. It had a calming effect on his nerves and made him more confident to try and speak. That he wasn’t distracted by her eyes helped.

“There are… things… things humans need… and things Time Lords need… and these things… they don’t always align… Time Lord things and human things… it’s complicated…”

“Things? What things?”

“We… ever since we… I know you want, but it also leads to… ah, it’s really, really difficult… You… you probably wonder why I haven’t kissed you so far, I mean, not just on the head or on the cheek or something… I mean, directly on the mouth, right?”

Ah, well, better than nothing. At least this one was out in the open and maybe he managed the rest later.

“Yeah, well… there were a few occasions where I thought you would, but you bowed out or changed it into a hug and I am indeed curious what the problem is. Well, mind me, not the problem, I’m simply curious: what holds you back or is it something Time Lords just don’t do?”

He would have liked to see her reaction to his next remark, but he feared it and in general, he felt more comfortable talking about his feelings if he didn’t need to make eye contact. So, he stayed in her embrace and just hoped it would pan out alright.

“Would it be a problem if I wouldn’t be able to do that? Kiss you on the mouth?”

He felt her small hand crawling into his hand. They interlaced fingers.

“Nothing is a problem when it comes to two people understanding each other, Doctor. It’s like a big adventure, it’s about exploring. And it’s about avoiding harmful things, things that make the other feel uncomfortable. What makes you feel uncomfortable about kisses on the mouth?”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He didn’t deserve a friend like her.

“Nothing… it’s just… those kisses have a tendency to lead to things… certain things… things that will get complicated.”

“You mean sex.”

She was pretty straightforward. It made him blush. And feel relieved because while he still found it hard to talk about it, her handling the topic open and without coyness made it a bit easier.

“Yes, sex. You humans are so… physical about it.”

“Physical? What do you mean? Of course, sex is physical. As physical as you can get with another human being… or a being in general, I assume.”

“Yes… I was sure you would assume that…”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“It’s… we… for Time Lords it’s not that way. For us it is… mental… telepathic.”

“Telepathic sex?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds… interesting. I can’t even imagine it, I think.”

“It’s… ah, well,… we… when we bonded telepathically we were already pretty close… when your spirit touched mine, when you said you almost could feel my emotions… the way you touched me there… it was… intimate… it was a closeness a Time Lord would only allow to happen with someone he has at least the serious intention to marry…”

“You mean that touch was already Time Lord sex?”

He felt the heat in his cheeks intensify.

“Ah, well, maybe not that, but the equivalent of a really intense human kiss… with tongues, you know… even a bit more, perhaps…”

“Ah, Time Lord snogging,” she giggled amused.

She didn’t take this seriously. Well, maybe he was taking it all too seriously?

He only knew he wanted to do that again. He wanted to have that feeling of closeness with her spirit again. But he was scared.

“Doctor, even if I only see the back of your neck, I can tell that you are scared. Terrified, even. What’s the matter?”

“When we broke the bond, you remember what happened?”

“Nothing happened, we fell asleep pretty soon.”

“Yes. No. Before that. I broke the bond and found we were in a tight embrace.”

“Yes. Sure. But that’s pretty normal for what we went through in your brain, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s not normal. If you have a telepathic bonding with another Time Lord… even if you melt your spirits… which is a feeling of… oh… it… has been quite a while, but it is a feeling you can’t compare to anything else. There are no words to describe this level of… if you feel what the other feels, if you are the other one and the other one is you but at the same time, you are one, just one being,… when four hearts are just one… as I said… impossible to describe… But even then, when you have reached the level of complete peace afterwards… when you break the bond… you will not have moved an inch from the position you were in when you started the bonding.”

“Okay… so that we were hugging was not so normal.”

“No. And that’s scary. I don’t understand what happens. It might be dangerous. It might destroy your brain if we…. yet…”

“Yet, what?”

He needed to see her. He needed to drown in those large, dark, brown eyes.

He straightened his back and was, as always, delightfully surprised that she understood his intentions immediately and loosened her grip. He turned around and she was, as always, more beautiful than the image he had in his mind.

His Clara.

He stretched out his hand and stroked her cheek.

“I don’t know… it has been a long time, but I think it never felt so good. So right. I want to feel it again… but… I fear it isn’t safe for you.”

“Nothing is ever safe, Doctor.”

She smiled and reached up to his shoulders. He wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“I know,” he sighed, “ I know, and that’s scary.”

“Don’t be scared, you daft old man. I’m sure we will figure this out. Like we figure out everything else.”

“Chaotic, running for our lives and in the wrong sequence of events?”

He felt her giggle against his chest. He loved her giggle. He loved to make her giggle.

“That, too. But I meant: together.”

He smiled and placed a kiss on her hair.

“Together,” he confirmed.


	2. The Thing With Compliments

It was a beautiful, clear night and this was perhaps his favorite spot in this part of the universe and this time zone. He had planned it as a purely romantic trip but of course they had run into a platoon of cyberdragons which had tried to take over the planet and after he had outsmarted them, an unfortunate incident had landed them in the local prison and it had been quite a bureaucratic nightmare to get them out of it. Thank the stars Clara was good at understanding and filling forms.

Speaking of…

“Paramedic and Tactical Navigator?”

“Yeah, well, they never would have accepted ‘handsome genius from outer space’ and ‘impossible girl’ as occupation.”

“I get that, you already told me, but why are you the tactical navigator and I just the paramedic?”

“You took the door to the broom chamber instead of the exit door from the director’s office. They would have never believed that _you_ are the tactical navigator, Doctor.”

“Point taken,” he sighed and opened the picnic basket. Or the case with the fast-decaying organ transplant they had to bring to the other side of the universe in exactly 34.6 hours, like Clara had stated in the form.

He took out the blanket, unfolded it and put it on the ground. Sandwiches, cookies, glasses, water, and wine followed.

“Wow, you really put effort into this, Doctor!”

She smiled at him and he felt the warm tingling in his stomach he always felt when she complimented him.

“The TARDIS may have helped,” he mumbled because he didn’t want to diminish the amount of effort his faithful old girl had put into explaining to him the concept of a romantic trip and what would count as romantic dinner and place and what not.

He still thought they should visit the screaming swamps of Slabber 8 and eat roasted chocolate crickets someday. But the sandwiches were really good, too.

He looked over to Clara who wolfed down her sandwich. Hungry little human. He could watch her eat for hours. When he saw her eating, he felt like everything was alright. He couldn’t help smiling.

“What are you smiling at, Doctor?”

He didn’t feel like explaining that he loved watching her eat. Humans were a bit peculiar about their weight, and remarks concerning eating, he knew that much, would get him into trouble. As much as he enjoyed bantering, he didn’t want to get into a serious fight with her, especially not tonight.

“Uh, nothing. Water? Wine?”

“Water would be nice, I’m parched.”

He filled two glasses with water. The TARDIS had insisted it wasn’t a romantic picnic if it didn’t involve wine, but he didn’t care for wine too much and he somehow was relieved that she also chose water. That way, he was sure that whatever happened didn’t happen because she was intoxicated. Not that he expected anything to happen. But it was better she was in her right mind, anyway. Because he wasn’t sure that he was. He didn’t need wine to be a mess of chemicals internally. He did feel like he was drunk ever since he realized that Clara really loved him.

They chatted and laughed about their latest adventure, while finishing the sandwiches and afterwards the cookies. He saved every single moment in his mind.

It started to get dark and it became a bit chilly. The TARDIS had informed him about what to do when this happened.

He took an additional blanked and placed it in front of the next rock.

“What are you doing, Doctor?”

“Making the perfect place to enjoy the stars.”

He sat down there, took the larger blanket, put it over his shoulders and stretched out one arm, holding this end of the blanket. As the TARDIS had promised, he didn’t have to say anything for Clara to catch up with what he wanted.

She came over to sit next to him. He wrapped her in the blanket and rested his hand on her shoulder. She immediately snuggled into him.

He sighed. This worked incredibly well.

They stared out over the small lake as the first stars appeared over the mountains.

“Warm? Comfortable?”

He asked, because he was very, very comfortable with her warm body and her weight resting against him and he hoped she felt the same.

“Very,” she confirmed and looked up to him. Their eyes met. Was this the right moment to do that compliment thing? It felt like the right moment.

“Your eyes are the most beautiful stars in the universe.”

He tried to read her facial expression. A bit happy, a bit incredulous and a tiny bit… amused? Amused, really? Yes. Amused.

“Hey, I know that look. You are amused. Did I say something funny? It was meant as a compliment.”

“I know, and it is a very nice compliment, it’s just… well, promise me you won’t be mad at me when I tell you, okay?”

He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. What did he do wrong now? The TARDIS had assured him this was the best compliment. He was confused. And helpless. Wait. She had asked him a question. Mad at her? No, he couldn’t be mad at her, never, no matter what she said or did.

“I… I think I am not even able to be mad at you, Clara Oswald,” he said, truthfully.

She smiled at him and reached up to cup his cheek with her small hand. She did this a lot. He liked how it felt.

“It’s just that it… somehow… doesn’t sound like _you_ , you know?”

“Not like me? Really? What do you mean? I can assure you I am me, I am not a Zygon!”

“I know that, you daft old man. It is a good compliment and with the reference to the universe it sounds slightly like you, but it sounds more as if it was taken from some kind of movie…”

Ah.

Well.

Maybe he should tell her?

Yes.

Maybe the best.

“Well, I had a few others, but the TARDIS said they were not proper compliments. She said they would scare you off and ruin the evening.”

“Did she? I think I would like to hear them!”

“What if they really scare you off?”

“I promise you they won’t.”

He looked into those beautiful eyes that were indeed the most beautiful stars in his universe. He took a deep breath and hoped she had spoken the truth and he wouldn’t scare her.

“Your eyes are more beautiful than the swamps of Slabber 8.”

“The swamps of Slabber 8? Are they beautiful?”

“They are. They shimmer in all different shades of brown and they reflect the stars beautifully and they feel like velvet. It’s a bit loud, because they are screaming swamps, but they are truly unique. But not as unique as your eyes.”

“Awww, that’s a bit odd, but it sounds beautiful.”

“Not scary and unromantic?”

“Not traditionally romantic, but really nice. Do you have another one?”

Ah, well, that was encouraging. Maybe the TARDIS wasn’t always right?

“Okay… if those eyes were Atraxi, I would follow them to any prison without resistance.”

She giggled. He loved when she giggled. But was this a good thing when she giggled after a compliment?

“Awww, that’s really sweet Doctor.”

“Really?”

He was surprised. She really sounded pleased.

She took the hand from his cheek and placed it on his hand.

“Yes. Because it’s so uniquely you. Something only you would say. And… it is honest, in a weird kind of way. It is even more than just a compliment, it’s a statement.”

He looked into her eyes who had inflated again and thought that, even if they were not Atraxi, he would follow the owner of those eyes wherever they went or wanted him to go.

“Strange, the TARDIS said it was unromantic and frightening,” he blurted.

“I think… the TARDIS is just a ship. She drew her conclusions about what is romantic or not from the information she has in her database about humans and from human movies. But I think she failed to grasp an important concept of compliments.”

“Which concept?” He felt excited. He loved to learn new things and he loved when Clara went into teacher mode. She was an extraordinarily good teacher.

“What a good compliment is depends on the two people involved. What attracts you to another person is a very unique thing. Which things you deem beautiful is a very unique thing, too. So, every honest compliment is as much about the person who gives the compliment as it is about the person who receives it. When you say my eyes are beautiful, it is a great compliment, but it is a very generic one. You can basically say it to every creature in the universe.”

“At least the ones who have eyes.”

She gave him that smile he had seen her use when a student made a sassy but intelligent remark.

“Exactly. If you compare them to the most beautiful other thing you can think of, it is a great compliment because you put in the effort to search for a comparison. And you came up with something that is important and beautiful to you.”

“Well, Atraxi are more strange and scary than beautiful, so I don’t understand why this compliment made your eyes shine even brighter than the first one.”

“Because it is basically also a declaration of trust and affection. I know that you are someone who exactly knows how it feels to be in a prison. Saying you would be willing to let yourself being captured and thrown into one by me is a beautiful mental image.”

Oh.

He was not sure if he had thought of this possible meaning when he had thought of this compliment, but if what she said was true – and he had no doubt about it – that it was equally important how she perceived it... it was as if he had _meant_ to say exactly that.

“You got more, Doctor?”

“Fishing for compliments?”

He grinned at her and she grinned back. Sometimes he really wanted to kiss her straight away if she looked at him like that. He imagined that those lips were incredibly soft. But he was still afraid that things would get complicated if he tried. Besides, he hadn’t kissed anyone in about 900 years. He had no idea if he still knew how to do it right.

Ah, well, but she wanted to hear a compliment and he felt confident enough that he could do that. He rested his forehead against hers and looked deep into the eyes that meant everything to him.

“Your eyes are like two black holes. I want to surf them and get lost in them and be drawn into your universe, because I think the universe inside you is one of endless warmth and understanding.”

Her eyes inflated a bit more and started to sparkle. For a second, he feared he had said something wrong and she would begin to cry.

But she just reached with her hand to the back of his head and let her hand sink into his curls.

“Doctor, you are a very good student. Top of class. And now, brace yourself, because I have no other option than to kiss you right here and right now.”

She tilted her head and pulled his head towards her.

Milliseconds later, their lips touched.


	3. Malfunction: Kiss

He felt the softness of her lips touching his own.

For a moment, his whole self went in shutdown mode as his hearts skipped a beat, his body refused to relay any sensory information to his brain and his brain refused to do anything anyway.

The first ones back were his hearts who were racing at high speed, sending all available hormones for alertness, fight, and flight racing through his veins.

The next ones back were his sensory abilities. Her lips on his. Soft but determined to get a reaction. Her hand in his hair. A slow stroke. Her other arm around his middle. Doing basically nothing but holding him. Which was a good thing, because for a moment every muscle seemed not sure if they were able to do what they needed to do to keep his body upright. A good thing they sat, anyway.

His nose reported a smell saying everything was alright, Clara was here.

His lips reported that they very well knew how to react to what they experienced and required permission to do so.

His eyelids closed, making sure that unnecessary visual information didn’t block important channels needed by other sensory information.

His brain however refused to do anything with the incoming messages. It was still completely in shutdown mode.

Various parts of his body reported that it felt good to have a warm body so close and they awaited the permission to intensify the contact.

The lips now reported that he probably should do something, otherwise they lost contact and they did want to keep it up.

His tongue reported that it was there and ready, should need be.

His hand reported that it was probably a good idea to grab the shoulder it rested on tighter so to give feedback that the person the shoulder belonged to felt nice.

His brain now slowly processed the incoming messages and tried to make sense of them.

One part argued that the reports made sense and they should give positive messages to all of them.

Another part argued that this was highly dangerous, and they needed more data before deciding anything.

Another part warned that this was all fundamentally wrong, starting with the fact that the being they held in their arms was a mortal, young, female human, not a fellow Time Lord and there were prophecies about the Hybrid and if they were true this could be the start of the downfall of Gallifrey.

Finally, his spirit told all of them to shut up, because the woman he held in his arms was Clara Oswald and if Clara wanted to be kissed he would do it, no matter what the parts of his brain were thinking and he just dared everyone in here to do their very best not to disappoint her.

This short-circuited every instance between his spirit and the information channels and so his lips responded to her kiss, his hand grabbed Clara’s shoulder tighter and pulled her a bit closer to his body, and his other hand went to the back of her head to feel her hair.

It became a long and slow kiss.

First, it was just two pairs of lips feeling each other, then carefully nibbling at each other to explore the options.

Then, her tongue touched his lips, asking for permission to explore further.

He willingly gave it.

Her tongue started to explore his mouth and his tongue took the invitation, first, to welcome and explore the intruder, then, to explore where the intruder came from.

It reported nice even teeth and a wonderful taste, mainly chocolate cookies and salmon sandwich, but underneath it a taste of adventure, excitement, strangeness, comfort, and care.

His ears reported a small, nearly unnoticeable moan that apparently came from the female human.

His spirit wanted to reach out to touch her spirit and experience the same that made her moan.

An instance in his brain held it back, reminding him that this was the thing he shouldn’t do.

His respiratory system reported they went short of oxygen supply and it recommended to switch to the bypass system.

Some part of his brain that was halfway in a position to think logical told everybody to break the kiss because the human didn’t have a bypass system and no matter how they all felt about it, this was not an emergency situation and there was enough oxygen as soon as they just took a break to catch some breath.

His eyelids re-established the visual connection to the outside world and the eyes immediately reported two inflated, beautiful, brown eyes with dilated pupils just in front of them.

“Doctor?”

“Clara?”

“Are you alright?”

Parts of his brain tried to think about the question but produced nothing slightly intelligible. So, the part of the brain that had checked all body functions after the shortage of oxygen supply suggested to answer with a status update before the situation became uncomfortable.

“Yes, yes, I think so. Yes, all functions are working fine. Why do you ask?”

“Because I am going to do that again and I want to be sure it doesn’t shot-circuit you or something.”

“It… messes with a lot of things in my brain, but you have the key to my hearts anyway, and I will do whatever you want me to do, so just go ahead and short-circuit me all you want.”

The part of his brain that was responsible for speeches cringed at the pure stupidity of the sentence.

His hearts remarked that they didn’t care for stupidity, but they felt warm and cozy.

The eyelids shut without waiting for an order, because they already knew there would be again a sensory overload in the channels.

Lips, tongue, and hands also worked independently because the different parts of the brain were an utter mess and they knew what they had to do anyway.

The reason why the brain was a mess was mainly because now all parts needed to focus on the spirit that wanted to connect with Clara Oswald’s mind and touch her spirit at all cost and it was a mighty effort to keep it from doing that.


	4. The Long Run

“For someone who claims that he hasn’t been close to someone in that way for centuries you are quite a good kisser, Doctor.”

“Some things you never unlearn, Clara,” he smiled at his little teacher, secretly proud that she was satisfied with his qualities as a kisser.

He had lost track how long and how often they had kissed, sitting by the small lake. But the stars had moved quite a bit since the first one. Perhaps an hour since he last noticed the stars?

“It is hard to believe it has no sexual connotation for you.”

“It hasn’t. It’s a bit hard to control because my spirit wants to bond with your spirit doing that, so the longing for it is there, but the kissing itself has no stimulating effect.”

He had grown a little more confident speaking about this topic as Clara tended to be completely open about it.

“If you never have had a sexual relationship with a human… why do you think that telepathic bonding could be harmful? If you never tried, you can’t be sure. Or have you tried, and something went wrong?”

He sighed.

“No. I had a few sexual interactions with humans, but I never bonded with them telepathically.”

“I don’t think I understand: if the – I will call it _normal_ for now – sexual actions don’t work for you; how could you have sex?”

“Oh, that’s not a problem. I can do that. It just does nothing for me.”

“You mean you… sorry, Doctor, did I understand you right? You can have sex without feeling anything?”

“Exactly. Ah, well, of course I feel things, but not the kind of… excitement… and, I don’t know how to word it… ecstasy… you humans have for those… physical… sexual touches and movements.”

“But… what’s the point, then?”

He was surprised that she was surprised.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“No, not at all.”

“Well… it is still nice in the way that I could be close to the person I was in love with. That’s always nice, you know, being close, touching that person, smell the smell. And it is always a nice thing if you can pleasure someone you care for.”

“I… I think I begin to understand. But it means that you were never satisfied in these relationships.”

“I don’t see it that way. Sex isn’t everything, you know? I think it is more important to humans than it is to us. There are couples on Gallifrey that have maybe bonded once or twice in their lifetime. Although I must admit that most really happy couples seem to bond much more. But it is not as essential as it is for you human beings. Spending time together is much more important to us.”

“I see… but I think that’s a problem with you lot going into a relationship with a human. I don’t think it works if one side gets its longing satisfied and the other doesn’t.”

“I don’t know. I’m lacking comparison. I don’t know any interspecies couple with a Time Lord as one part for obvious reasons.”

He shrugged. She really seemed to think it was problematic if he couldn’t bond with her. He had to admit he wanted to, but it was simply too dangerous. But he would very much like to make her feel good.

He tenderly reached for her chin.

“I’m sure it isn’t a problem, Clara. I’m sure I have not completely lost my skills when it comes to pleasure a human from Earth. The skills may be a bit rusty and I might need some practice, but I have relearned how to hug and apparently I still know how to kiss, so I think there’s hope.”

“That sounds promising, Doctor. But… I don’t know, maybe I’m weird…”

“You are not weird, Clara Oswald. To me, you are perfect.”

He said and simply kissed her. A few hours earlier the thought alone would have scared him and now he simply did it. This was what Clara Oswald did for him. She took away his fears.

“Wow, thank you,” Clara said after they parted lips, “but this is not what I meant. I think it is weird if one partner gets all the treats and the other one doesn’t.”

“I told you I don’t see it that way.”

“Yes. But I do. I would feel as if I would… just use you, you know?”

“You can use me in whichever way pleases you,” he said – and it was exactly how he felt about the subject. Sitting with her at one of his favorite spots in the universe and holding her in his arms was already more than he ever hoped for. For sure more than he deserved. Everything beyond that was an extra.

“But I don’t think it will work in the long run. If one is always just the giving and one the receiving part, you know. And I’m definitely into this for the long run.”

She looked at him as if she expected an answer. Was this a question? What was the question? If he thought the same about that giving and receiving thing? But he already told her he thought otherwise. So, what was the question? Humans were really… oh. Oh!

Well, the long run was relative. It was an incredibly short run for a Time Lord even if she would live to see old age. Those few years would be like minutes for him. It made him sad thinking about it.

“You… already regret it?”

What?

No.

Oh, dear Gallifrey, he wished he was better at those tricky human emotional things. No, that was not why he hesitated with the answer. He had to set it right, quick, now.

“No, no, no, no, no, Clara, don’t ever think that. I regret not a single second with you, never, ever,” he said so fast that he nearly stumbled over his own words.

“But?”

He took a deep breath. He took both her hands in his and looked into her eyes where he saw fear and doubt. She shouldn’t doubt his intentions. Not for one minute. Not for one second.

“Clara. My Clara. I’m definitely in it for the long run, too. I want to spend the rest of eternity with you, to be honest. It is just… you are human. You will die on me in a blink of an eye for my understanding of time. You can grow old with me, but I can’t grow old with you. Soon, you will be nothing more than a shelf of beautiful memories in my mind. And this makes me sad. But I want to use this short time span as good as possible. I want it to be perfect for you. Having you near me is already so much more than I could ever hope for! I don’t need anything more, really. If you stay with me, I will do everything I can to make you happy for as long as we got.”

Tears filled her eyes. He had done something wrong. He was a stupid idiot. Why did he always say the wrong things? He didn’t know what he said that made her cry, but it had been something he said.

“I love you, you stupid old man,” she sniffled and leaned her forehead against his, “I will try to stay alive for you as long as possible.”

“Forever would be nice.”

He knew it wasn’t an option.

But a nice thought.

He leaned into another kiss.


	5. The Ones We Lost

They listened to the sound of the orange ocean softly playing with the lilac sand in this small bay on Aries 5. They did this a lot recently: just looking for nice places to visit when they were done with an adventure on a planet. Sometimes to take a stroll, sometimes to picnic, sometimes just to enjoy the scenery. Cuddling and kissing was possible, but not mandatory.

Of all the things he loved about Clara, maybe this was the most wonderful thing about her: she had a bold and sometimes even pushy personality in general, but when it came to adapting to the new situation, especially to physical closeness, she gave him all the time and space he needed.

Today, his head rested in her lap and she let her fingers run through his hair while she watched the ocean. She said she loved the feeling of his grey curls and he didn’t complain at all. It felt nice when she touched him that way.

He wondered if he should tell her that her nostrils were beautiful, and they reminded him of the heart shaped dark nebulae in the Fh53Gh galaxy but decided against it. She would probably want to go there, then, and he didn’t want to fly into the mind-wipe minefield that remained there from a war he ended. He hadn’t minded last time, when he wanted to forget and was strangely disappointed when he missed the mines, but now, he had things in his head he didn’t want to forget.

He was just contemplating if he should try to stick a finger in her left nostril, just to see how she reacted and if it made her giggle – he loved her giggling – when she looked down to him.

“Can I ask you a question, Doctor?”

“Sure, anytime, you know that.”

“I wonder… you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to talk about it, you know… but I wonder why you think telepathic bonding could damage my brain if you have never done it with a human before.”

He sighed. He knew she would bring this topic up every once in a while. He had evaded it a few times now. And there was probably never the right time to have this conversation. Maybe the best time was now, when there was no pressure to be anywhere or to run from anything.

“Things happened before…”

He wanted to tell her a lot of things, yet, he didn’t know where to start. He thought about Donna and his whole body stiffened, as the painful memories and the guilt came crashing back.

“Shhh… try to relax. If it is too painful, you don’t have to talk about it. It’s alright. Just relax.”

She had stopped running her fingers through his hair and instead gently and slowly massaged his scalp near the temple with her fingertips. He closed his eyes and concentrated on this feeling. It felt nice. It put things in order in his head. They had found out that it had this effect on him when his thoughts were racing, and it was nice to notice she remembered it now.

He sorted his thoughts until they made sense for the story he needed to tell.

“I had a friend once… a great friend… a great companion… Brave, confident, open, kind, quick-witted, never let me get away with anything….” it nearly hurt him physically to think about it. Still, Clara needed to know. He took a deep breath and willed back the pain that threatened to strangle him. He concentrated again on her fingertips. “Donna. Her name was Donna.”

He fell silent as the pain washed over him and made his hearts clench.

Clara stopped massaging his head and instead put her hand on his shoulder. She had learned that fast actions that involved touching tended to overwhelm him in this incarnation and so she let some seconds pass before she gently squeezed his shoulder.

“You know it is okay to cry, right? If you lose a good friend, it hurts. Tears help the soul. At least that’s true for us humans. I don’t know about you.”

“Oh, yes, it’s the same for us. I just can’t. Not anymore. Something… I think some parts of me died on Trenzalore. I lost the ability to cry.”

He looked up to see her looking down at him. Her eyes, his anchors in a sea of pain.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“On Trenzalore? No. There are things dead and buried. Better to let them rest in peace.”

They didn’t rest in peace. They rested in a sea of blood and bowels, between piles of dead bodies and in burning houses. But he sealed them tight in his hearts, all those screams and those tears.

Clara was the light. She had seen enough of his darkness.

She continued to slowly rub his shoulder with her thumb.

“No matter what you want to talk about. I’m here to listen.”

He slowly, hesitantly, started telling Clara about Donna. He felt the need to make her understand what a great companion she had been, how much she had meant to him so Clara could fathom what he had lost. How weird their first encounter had been. How fearlessly she always told him what she thought of his actions. How she always called him “spaceman”. The way she made sure that he didn’t have to carry the load, the guilt alone when he had to destroy Pompeii. The way she convinced him to save just one family. In retrospective a very important moment, because it had helped him to come to terms with the inevitable, with the fixed points he couldn’t change.

“You loved her,” Clara remarked.

“Oh, yes, I did. Not the way I love you. Or my first wife. Or River. Or Rose. But the way you love your best friend or companion.”

“What happened to her?” 

He told her all about the painful day. The day they all together saved reality but also the day he lost Rose and Donna. The day he actively, willingly had to take all the memories from her. All their travels. All their adventures. All the fun they had. Everything they were for each other. To save her.

He ended his story and fell silent. The pain felt like a dark, lonely humming in his mind and body now.

Clara softly stroked his head.

“That’s terrible, Doctor.”

She just said and left it at that for the moment. He was thankful that she just acknowledged how terrible the events had been instead of trying to find words of comfort for something there was no comfort for.

She just held him tight.

Still, he couldn’t stand even this level of comforting at the moment.

He released himself from her grip and got up, not able to say anything at this very moment.

He just hoped she would understand.

He slowly went to the point where the small waves from the ocean met the shore.

A quiet little bay.

Like the Bad Wolf Bay.

He listened to the sound of the waves.

They talked to him about all the wonderful people he had known.

Who had travelled with him.

Who had trusted him.

Who had died.

Because of him.


	6. The One Who Is There

He didn’t know how long he had been standing there, staring to the horizon and listening to the sound of the ocean. Mourning the loss of his friends and companions. Contemplating his faults. A part of him even contemplated walking a few steps into the ocean and just let the waves crash over his head, ending an existence that was dubious at best. If he stayed down long enough, perhaps he would regenerate until all his regenerations were exhausted.

“Hey,” a soft voice said beside him.

He hadn’t noticed Clara had joined him.

She stood in a small distance, making sure she didn’t touch or disturb him otherwise.

How long had she been standing there?

“I got a blanket if you need one. It’s getting a bit chilly,” she said.

His Clara. Always the practical type. He felt miserable, but it made him smile anyway.

He reached out and wrapped her in his arms.

“The only blanket I need,” he managed.

He wasn’t able to say more.

He just rested his chin on her head.

She slowly stroked his back.

“You don’t need to carry it alone, the whole weight of the universe, you know? Sometimes I fear it breaks your back.”

He pressed her small body close to his own, clutching her shoulder tight because he needed to feel her. His anchor, his life raft in an ocean of fear, pain and loss.

And yet, he would lose her, too, like he lost everybody else.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she was here, with him.

The only fraction of the universe that mattered.

For a while, they just stayed that way.

“Hey, Doctor?”

“Hm?”

“I put off my shoes before I went here, but you probably want to come back to the shore with me, because it is really getting cold now and you are standing in the water with your shoes and trousers.”

Really, now he noticed that his feet felt wet and cold. The emotional pain had completely blocked out all sensory information from the outside until now.

How embarrassing.

“You must think I’m a really stupid idiot.”

“No, I know that you are, sometimes.”

She giggled, grabbed his lapels, and pecked a kiss on his cheek.

Her giggling warmed his hearts.

It was good that she didn’t take everything as seriously as he did.

“Hey, I tell you what: There’s enough dead wood around, how about a small campfire to get your trousers and your feet dry? It’s a beautiful night after all.”

It was a crazy thought. He liked it. Why not? Usually they just camped outside if they were somewhere stuck and couldn’t reach the TARDIS for the night. He secretly liked those occasions because they could huddle together and keep each other warm while watching the stars. But he would never had had the idea to do this deliberately.

She stretched out her hand and he took it. Together they went back to the place where they had set up their picnic blanket.

Clara searched for dry wood while he removed his shoes and wet socks. He contemplated if he should put off the trousers, too. They were soaking wet at the bottom, but he wore question mark boxers. He wondered if Clara would make fun of him if she saw them.

Clara came back and set up the wood for a small campfire. As experienced adventurer, she had the fire burning in no time. She looked around and eyed him.

“You should probably take off your trousers, otherwise your feet will never become dry and warm. Or do you have embarrassing underpants?”

He felt heat crawling to his cheeks.

A small smirk crawled in the corner of her mouth.

“You _do_ have embarrassing underpants, Doctor?”

He cleared his throat.

“I promise I won’t laugh, Doctor. Come on, down with the pants. No need to catch a cold just because you are ashamed of your underpants.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he sighed.

He didn’t take orders from anyone. Yet, if this small teacher wanted him to do something, he always obeyed. He wished she wouldn’t observe him while he took off his trousers, but on the other hand he felt silly asking her to turn around. He opened his belt and slid down his trousers.

Now he stood there in his grey boxers with red question marks and he thought that he never felt so naked. She eyed him with a large smirk and a mischievous twinkling in her eyes.

“For what it’s worth, I think they are rather sexy, Doctor.”

“Really?”

He was not sure if he should be happy about that remark.

“Really,” she said softly. “Come, sit here with me. Don’t worry. I won’t try anything sexual.”

“I told you it wouldn’t be a problem if you wanted to.”

“And I told you I was not going to use you as a sex toy, Doctor.”

He grinned and took a blanket.

“I hope the TARDIS hasn’t heard that. I don’t even want to hear the bad jokes she would make.”

“The TARDIS makes jokes?”

“Do you think those puns are all mine? The bad ones are all hers.”

She giggled.

“Doctor!”

He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and lowered himself beside her. He wrapped Clara in his blanket and pulled her to his side. Then, he stretched his cold feet towards the fire.

Clara reached her arm around him and huddled up to him. He rested his head against hers.

For a long while they just stared to the fire.

“For a moment, I was really scared, you know?”

Clara finally said.

“Of what?”

“When you were standing in the ocean… for a moment it looked as if you wanted to drown yourself.”

Of course. She wasn’t telepathic. But she was perceptive. Sometimes even too perceptive for his liking.

He softly rubbed her shoulder with his thumb.

“Don’t worry. It won’t happen,” he let his hand glide down and reached around her hips, “not in this universe.”

“This universe?”

“Mhm.”

He muttered and looked up to the stars. Then, he looked to Clara and their eyes met. He smiled.

“Because I know that in this universe, I don’t have to carry its weight alone. In this universe, whenever I turn around, there is a small human with a blanket beside me. A small human woman who tells me when I’m about to do something stupid. A woman who tells me to come out of the water because my feet are wet.”

She smiled her wonderful little smile and her eyes were twinkling like two stars.

“If you got someone beside you who tells you your feet are wet, there is no danger the water will ever reach your head.”

He said and kissed her before she could say anything in return.


	7. Development

She eyed him.

He pretended not to see it and kept his eyes glued to the book in his hands. He wondered why she eyed him. Sometimes she did this. Especially when they were sitting in the library after an adventure. They sat, he in his armchair, she on the chaise longue, reading, drinking tea, and sometimes, she eyed him. Sometimes because she contemplated to bring up a difficult topic. Sometimes… not. Sometimes she seemed to do it simply because she loved watching him.

Whatever was the case, he began to feel uncomfortable under her stare. He hoped she would just say it if it was a difficult topic so they could get over it. But he would not actively ask why she was staring at him. He was not good in non-scientific conversations and difficult topics had the tendency to be exactly that: non-scientific. Emotional. Difficult.

“You are not reading,” she remarked.

“Hm?” He pretended not to have understood her and kept his eyes on the book.

“I can see that you are not reading. You haven’t turned the page for over a minute. Giving your speed in reading, this means you are not really reading.”

He closed the book and sighed. Humans. Difficult.

“No one is able to read if someone is staring at them as loud as you do, Clara Oswald.”

She giggled and he looked at her. Immediately, he was lost in the beauty of her face. The eyes, the small wrinkles around them, the mouth, the perfect, stubby, little nose. If he were a poet, he would immediately write a poem about the beauty of the small, nearly unnoticeable wrinkle that ran from the left side of her nose to her forehead.

But, alas, he wasn’t a poet. He was just a stupid, old Time Lord not good at making conversation, which seemed to be a human thing. Figures, as they could not just bond and exchange their thoughts and feelings telepathically. It made all kinds of things difficult. Really, really difficult.

“Doctor, I was thinking…”

The small human center of his whole universe said, and he couldn’t resist the urge to tease her.

“That is always advisable. Much better than avoiding it!”

“Doctor!” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Sorry, you know it was hard to resist,” he grinned, “what were you thinking about?”

“Donna.”

She said and he felt a cold hand grabbing his hearts and squeezing them. He closed his eyes. Not only a difficult conversation. A difficult and painful one. ‘Alright, Doctor, you can do this. Just try to listen.’ He told himself, formed a tent with his hands by resting the fingertips against each other and focused on them while listening.

“I don’t think it is like you think. That the same happens to my brain when we bond telepathically like what happened when Donna touched your disembodied hand with the regeneration energy inside.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because there was a whole regeneration going on and you and I know how messy that gets.”

Oh yes. He hated to think about his regenerations. Especially the last one. He still wished he would have come out… younger. He knew his cells had determined he could trust Clara enough to have an appearance closer to his real inner self, old, jaded, a bit fed up with everything, but still… he just wished he would have come out a bit more… dashing.

“And I think… There are a lot of things happening, cells changing, cells forming, especially as regeneration energy was messing with Donna’s brain while simultaneously creating a human version of you… I just don’t think you can compare this to what happens when you willingly make a telepathical connection.”

“Hmmm.”

He tried to process what she told him. Especially, he tried to will back that small glimpse of hope involved. He didn’t need hope for something more. What he had was already much better than everything he ever imagined; he didn’t need more hope on top of that. Especially when it meant that he would lose everything he had gained if things went wrong.

“There is no regeneration energy involved in bonding, is there?”

Okay, this was a technical question. He felt safe answering technical questions.

“Not in the bonding as such, no. As long as the spirits are separated, there is no regeneration energy involved. But if you melt your spirit with another spirit… there is. It is a small amount, but there is an exchange of the regeneration energies from one to the other. You take a piece of the energy from your partner. And you carry that part with you, even when you separate again. It becomes part of you and part of your future regenerations. That’s why it is something you just do when you are married. Because in a way, the other one stays inside of you forever, no matter how often you regenerate.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“Yes, yes, it is.”

He thought about his first wife. It was a great comfort that he still carried a part of her with him, although she had been killed a long time ago. It was something that was stronger than a memory, something he felt close to his hearts that never left him.

He still missed her.

Clara got up and went over to him.

“I think I understand why you are afraid,” she laid her hands on his shoulders and massaged them gently. He liked when she did this. It helped him relax. He closed his eyes and leaned into her soft touch.

“However, I think you don’t have to. It seems to me it is still something completely different, melting the minds, compared to a meta-crisis. I’m not afraid of anything you could do to my brain.”

He reached up and rested his hands on hers. He looked up to meet her eyes. Then, he slowly closed his hands around hers.

“You are a brave woman, Clara Oswald,” he said, his hearts racing because he was afraid of her reaction to what he wanted to ask next, “I know that. I know it since I first met you. But… would it disappoint you? If I don’t want to risk that?”

She kneaded his hands. It always amazed him how much hidden strength was in this woman – physically and mentally.

“Doctor, I told you this before and I will tell you no matter how often you need to hear it: none of us will ever do anything the other is not comfortable with. If you don’t want to do it, we don’t do it. If I don’t want to do it, we don’t do it. It is as simple as that.”

She let go of his hands and, reaching around his shoulders, let herself sink onto his lap.

“Do you remember when hugging scared you?”

He was only able to nod, not knowing what she wanted to do. But it felt nice to have her on his lap, the warmth of her body close to his. Her smell surrounding him. He rested his hand on her side.

“I made a mistake by forcing them onto you. But I think I became better at warning you that I was planning to hug you and you became more comfortable with them, right?”

“I like your hugs,” he muttered.

She smiled and rested her forehead against his, softly stroking his nose with hers.

“I know. The touch-aversive stick-insect has become quite a cuddly Time Lord,” she said, rubbing his shoulder. Then, she pecked a small kiss on his forehead.

“And not too long ago, kisses on the mouth were unthinkable for you.”

She pecked another kiss on his forehead, the next on his nose, the next on his mouth. The first one was just a peck, but the second one was a long one, becoming more intense. She let her hand sink into his hair and softly stroked his head while their tongues told the story of two people who carefully got to know and explore each other.

“True,” he said, when they took a break.

She gave him her brightest smile and softly stroked his cheek.

“See, and that’s what it’s all about. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We might not be able to do what I think we could do, because you don’t feel comfortable risking it. And that’s okay. But we can perhaps do different things, things we both don’t know right now. Because we haven’t discovered them, yet. It’s all about carefully exploring the options and trusting each other, okay?”

“Okay.”

He nodded. This sounded good. And especially, Clara felt and tasted good.

He demanded another kiss.


	8. Bonding

The longer they kissed, the more difficult it got to keep his spirit from reaching out to her spirit. But he wouldn’t do anything that would put Clara at risk. This was so much more than he deserved already.

The small, warm, roundish, perfect, incredibly well-smelling woman who messed with his hair broke the kiss and looked into his eyes with the brown orbs he contemplated naming the next galaxy after if he got the chance to do such a thing again.

Oh.

The way she looked at him she had asked him something, but he had been too absorbed by her eyes to pay attention.

He cleared his throat.

“Sorry, what?” He uttered.

“You remember I can hear your thoughts when we are so close and you are not actively shielding your brain, right?”

“Sorry, did I think something rude? I was not paying attention.”

Clara giggled.

“You wanted to name a galaxy after my eyes. But before that you wanted to keep your spirit from reaching out because you thought that it was more than you deserved.”

He smiled sheepishly.

“True.”

“But… couldn’t we try that? We bonded before and you said that bonding as such is not risky because there is no exchange of regeneration energy.”

“No, that’s not precisely what I said… I just said that as long as our spirits were separated there was no exchange of regeneration energy.”

“How is that different from what I said?”

“You said I deemed it not risky, but I do.”

“But we hugged in telepathy before and nothing happened.”

“Ah, well, I wouldn’t say that. Things happened. When we broke the bond, we had hugged each other for real.”

“But that didn’t damage anything.”

“Who knows? Clara, when you bond telepathically you give up control over your body. Which is usually not a problem as you just don’t move. I always thought Time Lords were paralyzed in telepathy. Only now I learned that this isn’t true. But I didn’t feel my body move! I don’t know what my body does while we bond. I might hurt you because I’m not aware of what I’m doing. Crush you, slap you, strangle you, I don’t know…”

“Why should you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s think logical for a moment, okay?”

He thought that this was probably a bit much to ask of his brain. On his lap sat the most beautiful woman in the universe suggesting something possibly amazing and/or ridiculously dangerous and his brain tried to keep his spirit from doing stupid things while keeping everything in his body in working order despite the circumstances.

“When we hugged in telepathy our bodies did physically the same we did mentally. Why should they do anything else when we do other things?”

That sounded… somehow plausible. Logical. Simple.

“I… don’t know, actually.”

“If you don’t know… and we didn’t hurt each other last time… why don’t we just try it?”

“Is it worth the risk?”

“If I read your thoughts right, you have to keep your spirit very actively from reaching out and touching my spirit. So, while I don’t have to hold anything back while kissing you, you have to restrain yourself. I don’t know, but for me that doesn’t sound pleasant…”

“Oh, I can assure you, kissing you is very pleasant,” he said, and immediately kissed her to make his point clear. She definitely enjoyed when he took the initiative. It was a funny little game. One time she was in command, then again, he was. He was sure he didn’t need anything more.

His spirit remarked that it would be definitely more pleasant to have a bit more. His brain told his spirit to shut up.

Clara retreated a bit until she could look into his eyes and smiled.

“You know, last time we bonded you were very good at controlling yourself. And we could communicate all the time, it was not as if one of us could not tell the other what happened, right?”

“Right,” he confirmed the information, not knowing where she was heading to.

“Why don’t we… just hug and then establish the connection and try a mental hug and see what happens? When we already hug physically, and we sit, so there is no risk of falling to the floor, I don’t think much else, nothing damaging I mean, can happen, don’t you think? And we are connected, I can tell you if I feel uncomfortable and we can break the bond. What do you think?”

His spirit shouted they should do exactly that and they should do it now.

Every part of his body reported they were willing to do anything if it involved the warm, well-smelling, good-feeling, body next to them.

Different parts of his brain battled against each other. One constantly pointing to terrible experiences in the past where he damaged and lost people, another one pointing to prophecies about the downfall of Gallifrey when connecting with the wrong species, a more logical part arguing that from a technical standpoint the risk was indeed very, very, low. They had run several calculations and established scenarios and ended up with 97.56 % safe if they just kept it at a mental hug.

His hearts argued that they trusted this human taking good care of them, and reminded the brain that it was utterly useless, all its stupid parts, if the hearts decided to stop beating because they couldn’t stand all the arguing any longer.

“I think we can try,” he said. “I think if we are very, very careful it isn’t too risky.”

She smiled and wrapped him into a hug. He reached around her and pulled her softly as close as possible. She was safe that way, no risk of dropping her. He rested his head against hers.

His spirit immediately reached out once he got the permission and her spirit already waited for him. They wrapped each other into a tight mental hug.

His spirit let all the love and care he felt flow around her spirit, knowing she wouldn’t be able to sense his feelings but figuring she could sense them in the physical hug. And he felt all the love and care her spirit radiated. He was surprised how strong, how much it was. It was a nearly overwhelming amount of love and care. Maybe it was the same amount he had for her, but still, he hadn’t expected it to be truly that mutual.

_Of course, it is mutual you daft old man._

_Clara!_

He didn’t manage to communicate more, because his feelings for her overwhelmed him. He just allowed his spirit to enjoy the closeness, the wonder of a spirit so beautiful, so strong, so perfect for him.

As if someone had created this spirit especially for him.


	9. Body and Spirit

_I can feel both._

_What?_

_I can feel what happens in our minds while at the same time feeling what happens physically._

_Really?_

_Yes, I can feel our spirits hugging while I can at the same time feel your physical hug. It intensified when our spirits hugged._

_Do I hurt you?_

_No, don’t worry. It feels wonderful, actually. Very… tender._

_Okay._

That sounded… good.

He felt her spirit touching him. She had touched him like that before, but he was still surprised that she could do it. Tenderly, lovingly.

His spirit leaned into it and allowed it to happen.

What happen?

He should ask.

_What happens?_

_Apparently, this is a kiss._

_Oh._

_Yeah. You really don’t feel the physical part of it?_

_No._

_You miss the best part._

_I doubt it. Not for me._

For him, this mental connection fulfilled a need he had had for ages without admitting it, even to himself. The need for mental closeness. The need to feel another spirit next to his. Not a telepathic bond to exchange information, a bond only for the pleasure of feeling another one near.

He slowly let his spirit glide around the outskirts of her spirit. He hadn’t done that for ages. It felt wonderful.

_Wow._

_What?_

_I never thought you could kiss so… passionately._

_I kiss different now than I kissed before?_

_Oh, yes. It was great before, but… Well, now that I have the comparison, it seems that before there was a part of you missing…_

_Interesting._

He playfully ruffled the outskirts of her spirit.

Her spirit giggled.

He loved it.

_Why do you think I can feel both while you can’t?_

_I don’t know. Maybe because you are human. Maybe humans can have both – a mental and a physical connection at the same time._

His spirit now was on different sides of her spirit, stroking it slowly. He felt her spirit react to it by bending towards his strokes.

_It is still hard to believe you are missing the physical experience._

_It’s already confusing – and amazing – that there is a physical experience at all. All I know about telepathy is that usually, Time Lords are paralyzed when doing this._

_I can assure you, you are not paralyzed, not at all!_

_Really? What do I do?_

_Things._

_Things?_

_Yes._

_What things?_

_Break the bond to catch a glimpse? We can reconnect again, you know?_

She was right. It also was probably good to check what happened outside his mind, just to make sure she was really alright.

He reluctantly let go of her spirit.

When he became aware of his surroundings again, he found that Clara was still on his lap, hugging him, but his hand had apparently crawled under her blouse and held her right breast.

He immediately removed his hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he mumbled.

“No reason to feel sorry about that. Not at all. On the contrary.”

She was smiling at him, cheeks slightly pink.

“We knew that this was a possibility, right? Hey, you even offered to do something like this without even feeling anything yourself, remember? Which I refused, not because I didn’t want to, but because I was not going to use you if you were just the giving part. There is absolutely nothing to feel sorry for. This is mutual, Doctor.”

She was probably right. Still…

“Still feels awkward that I was not aware what I was doing.”

“You are aware now, right?”

He nodded and gulped when he realized she was unbuttoning her blouse.

“What are you doing?”

He couldn’t make sense of it.

He couldn’t make sense of many things. When his spirit finally got his will, most parts of his brain had thankfully shut up, and for once, he could enjoy what happened without too much thinking involved. Yet, he was feeling so many things and there was so much sensory information coming in from different parts of his body that his mind was a bit chaotic.

Communicating in telepathy or talking to Clara was the only thing that somewhat structured him at the moment. The rest of him was a chaos of emotions and sensations. Not that he really minded. It felt strangely good to be a bit out of control.

Clara would take care of him.

If he wasn’t sure about anything anymore, this was the one thing he was sure of.

“I’m taking off my blouse to allow you more access to my body. I like to feel your skin on mine, so I would like to open your shirt, too, to allow for closer contact. If this is okay for you?”

He nodded while he observed her unbuttoning her blouse and finally removing it.

He couldn’t help but admire the beauty of her breasts. He was sure that Shakespeare would have immediately written a well-paced sonnet about them. He, for that matter, just sat there and stared at both of them, two not perfectly even, but excitingly different twins, fitting perfectly to the body of the woman he loved.

“You know… it’s all a bit different for us. But different is not wrong or bad. Different is interesting and exciting.”

Her accent had become a bit thicker, probably because she was excited. Probably not half as excited as he was, he reckoned. She reached for his first shirt button and opened it.

He gulped. He was not exactly comfortable with the thought of having to remove his shirt.

“I just open it, you don’t have to remove it, if you don’t want to.”

He was thankful for that. Although he didn’t mind feeling her close, he still felt a bit insecure when his body hadn’t some layer of protection. Probably a remnant from Trenzalore, when he had to be ready to fight back another attack no matter what time of day it was. He pushed the thought away quickly and concentrated on the feeling of her small hands unbuttoning his shirt and removing it from his trousers.

“See, I like to feel you physically close. You like to feel me mentally close. Together we can have both.”

She pressed her naked skin against his chest, reached for his hand, and placed it back on her breast. It felt perfect, like a warm, welcoming resting place created exactly to fit his hand. Stroking it with his thumb was nearly mandatory. It felt as if it needed to be stroked.

“It seems while you might not be able to experience what happens physically when we bond, your mind and body are linked. And your body knows what to do. Your hands know very well what to do, I can assure you.”

There was an expression in her eyes he hadn’t seen before. It was strange, it made her eyes larger and even more beautiful, and it made him feel… not only accepted, it made him feel… wanted.

“And now,” she leaned her head against his, “come here, I like to feel that spirit of yours again.”

His spirit was more than happy to hear that and immediately welcomed her spirit back in a tight, passionate embrace.


	10. Vulnerable

Clara had been fallen asleep immediately after they agreed to break the bond. Her head rested on his shoulder. Her soft hair tickled on his naked chest. He placed his nose in her hair and inhaled. It was unbelievable that one single human being could smell so good. He leaned back and enjoyed the smell and the feeling of her naked torso against his body.

He had lost track of the time while they had been bonding, feeling each other’s spirit. He had no idea what his body had done in the meantime, but she had assured him that he knew what he did. He hoped that this was true. Of course, it was true, she had told him in telepathy, and it was impossible to lie in telepathy.

He was secretly relieved he still wore his trousers. He trusted Clara enough that she would have told him if she had done anything that involved further undressing but he didn’t trust himself half as much.

However nice it was to feel her warm breath against his neck, it was just not a good position to spend the night. He contemplated to wake her but didn’t have the hearts to disturb her. She was really tight asleep. But he had been in this chair for hours now and it was getting uncomfortable.

Maybe… he could just bring her to bed?

He carefully reached under her legs and tightened his grip around her middle.

It took him several attempts because he hadn’t done this in a long time and she was a bit heavier than she looked, but finally he managed to get up.

He shortly held his breath and listened, but her breathing stayed even. He had managed to get up without waking her.

He slowly walked to her room in the TARDIS.

Maybe it had been a weird idea, but it had been his present for her last birthday. He wanted her to have her own room so when he did something stupid on their travels, she had her own door to slap in his face even if they were far away from her flat. Her eyes had inflated, and she had hugged him so tight she nearly crushed his ribcage, so he assumed she liked it.

The TARDIS opened the door for him. He sent her a telepathic ‘Thank you’.

He realized the TARDIS had replaced the single bed with a double bed.

‘For someone who doesn’t like Clara you have become quite a matchmaker, recently,’ he teased her in telepathy.

The TARDIS answered with a sound saying that she just wanted her thief to be happy and if he loved that human entity, she could just as well assure that he had a good time with her.

‘I’m sure there is no universe or parallel universe anywhere where someone is blessed with such a great ship’ he answered.

The next sound was the sound of a TARDIS blushing.

He carefully lowered Clara to the bed, making sure her head rested comfortably on the pillows. He stretched out her legs and carefully removed her shoes. She looked so fragile with her naked torso. He contemplated if he should take off her skirt, too, because it didn’t look comfortable to sleep in. But if he were unconscious, he wouldn’t want Clara to take off his trousers, so he decided against it.

He had made a tactical mistake. He had lowered her on top of the duvet. She would probably wake up if he tried to remove it from underneath her. He took the blanket from the other side of the bed and wrapped her with it.

She looked peaceful and comfortable, yet, so vulnerable, so incredibly fragile.

It would be unthinkable if something would happen to her.

If someone would harm her.

If someone would break this fragile, wonderful human being that meant everything to him.

He tucked the corners of the duvet underneath her, so nothing could crawl there and harm her.

That was better. But she still looked vulnerable. Especially as she was tight asleep. What if someone came to hurt her? She wouldn’t be aware. She would only wake up when it was too late to fight back.

He would keep a watch over her.

The TARDIS made a sound remarking that she would keep the watch over both and he should just lie down next to her in the bed and sleep, too.

He told her to shut up in telepathy.

The TARDIS made a sound indicating that he was an idiot and just because he was in love it didn’t give him permission to be rude.

He told her to shut up, again.

He contemplated to sit on the other side of the bed, back against the headboard. But if someone came through the door, this meant he was not in the position to throw himself between the intruder and Clara to protect her.

Not good.

He took the next armchair and placed it beside the bed. He sat in it, looking down to Clara.

Humans were so breakable, so easy to kill.

No, this was not good.

If he sat that way, someone could come through the door behind his back, sneaking up unnoticed.

He got up and placed the armchair in a way he could monitor the door and still check on Clara.

Yes, this was better.

He realized his shirt was still open.

Not good. If someone attacked, this would make him vulnerable and hamper him if he got into a fight.

He buttoned it up and tucked it back into his trousers.

Better.

He made sure Clara was tucked in properly one more time. He resisted the urge to stroke her soft hair and place a kiss on it. She should rest, he wouldn’t do anything to disturb the sleep of his impossible girl.

He sat down.

He would protect her.

Nobody would harm her. Nobody would shoot her. Nobody would strangle her. Nobody would beat her up. Nobody would slash her. Nobody would rape her and stab her and leave her on the street to bleed to her dead. She wouldn’t burn in her own home. She wouldn’t be shot by Daleks. She wouldn’t be zapped by Cybermen.

Because this woman was protected.

She was protected by the most unforgiving force in the universe.

She was protected by the Doctor.

By this Doctor.

He clenched his fists, sat on the edge of his seat, and stared to the door, ready to attack, ready to kill anyone who would dare to come through that door with the intention to harm his Clara.


	11. Trenzalore

„Doctor!“

He jumped up, fists clenched, ready to attack.

“Doctor, what’s the matter?”

He slowly turned to the bed and relaxed a bit. Clara. It was just Clara calling him.

He sat back on his chair and looked into her beautiful brown eyes that were staring at him questioningly and with a hint of fear in them. Had something scared her? He would put up with everyone who dared to scare her.

“What’s the matter, Doctor?”

“Nothing, everything is alright, just sleep, Clara.”

“What are you doing in that chair?”

“Keeping the watch.”

“You… you are keeping the watch?”

“Yes, sure. So, you can sleep undisturbed. No one will harm you. I’m making sure nothing happens to you.”

Instead of going back to sleep, she got up. Why didn’t she just close her eyes and rest? Everything was alright. She shouldn’t endanger herself by getting up.

To his surprise, she crouched down in front of him.

He didn’t understand what happened.

Why did she do that? Why did she look up to him… concerned? It was her concerned look. What concerned her?

“Who should want to harm me?”

“You never know, Cybermen, Daleks, evil beings, they are out there, but they won’t be able to reach you. I’m here, I’m keeping the watch, just go back to bed.”

Something was touching his hands.

“Hey. I don’t think you need to worry about them, Doctor. We are in your TARDIS, you know?”

What did she mean?

He looked at her and tried to make sense of what she said.

It was hard to understand through all the noise of explosions and the smell of fire, smoke and burning flesh. She was saying something and that something didn’t make any sense. There was no TARDIS here. They were on Trenzalore, but they were inside, and he would keep her safe. There was only one access to this room, and he got this one covered. They would not harm her. Not as long as he was here, standing on guard, ready to fight them.

No one would harm his Clara.

Something had grabbed his hands.

He retreated them to fight whatever it was.

The eyes in front of him stopped him.

Her eyes.

“Clara?”

“Doctor?”

Nothing made sense. It all didn’t align. It confused him. What happened? Was this a trick?

He needed to focus on something until he understood what happened.

Her eyes.

They were real.

Whatever else was real or unreal, those eyes were real.

“Clara?”

He hoped that she was real, too.

“I’m here, Doctor. I’m here. Everything is alright.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, everything is alright. We are in your TARDIS. Nothing can enter the TARDIS. We are safe here. We are in your TARDIS.”

“Inside the TARDIS.”

“Yes.”

The shooting ceased and the explosions faded. The smell of fire and smoke was not as intense as before. Clara’s smell was more prominent. If he focused on it, it was the only smell that was really there. He looked around. Really, this wasn’t Trenzalore. This was Clara’s room in the TARDIS. It had been created after Trenzalore. This wasn’t Trenzalore. This was his TARDIS.

“Do you think it is okay if I touch you, now?” Clara asked.

Was it okay if she touched him? Of course, it was.

“Yes, of course.”

He felt her small hands cupping his hands. He looked down. Fists. Why were his hands this way? They felt as if they didn’t belong to him. As if they were some numb, dead pieces of flesh.

Clara’s fingers slowly crawled around the fists and sought access to his palms. She slowly uncurled his fingers. She rubbed small circles with her thumb to the palms of his hands. Slowly his hands felt connected to his body again.

His hands felt good when Clara massaged them. As if they were okay. As if they were not the hands that killed people but the hands that helped people. How did she do that?

“See, no need to fight. Everything is alright, Doctor.”

He looked into her eyes that still held an expression of concern. He felt guilty and ashamed. He should take care of her, not the other way round.

“Sorry…”

He didn’t know what to say. For him, it had been real. For him it had been Trenzalore all over again.

“Have I hurt you?”

He remembered that he had felt the impulse to fight back when he first felt something grabbing his hands.

“No, don’t worry, Doctor. You haven’t. It was just a bit scary.”

“Sorry, I didn’t… I… I’m so sorry…. Sometimes… sometimes it is as if… it is real, you know? I’m there, it’s all there, I can see it, I can hear it, I can smell it… it’s… I’m so sorry you had to witness this… this me…”

“It was a flashback. This happens a lot, to humans, too.”

So, she did know. That was good. Because he was not sure if he could manage to explain it. Not with that mess of a brain he had.

“Sometimes, if you have been through a lot, if you fought too hard and for too long, part of that horror stays inside. And sometimes, a smell or an image or a word takes you back.”

“Do you have them, too?”

“No, but I have friends who have them. I wasn’t sure at first, but the expression in your eyes and that you insisted you had to watch over me, although we are in the TARDIS, told me what it was.”

“I’m so sorry that this happened. I should take care of you, not scare you. You shouldn’t have to deal with… that.”

He took her hands into his and kissed them.

“Nothing to feel sorry for, it’s not your fault.”

She paused, looking at him.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Doctor?”

“You, for me?”

He was surprised. He was just glad he hadn’t hurt her and that she hadn’t run off because he scared her. Why would she want to do anything for him?

“Because I think a flashback is a quite disturbing experience and…”

Ah. Right. He still was a crappy telepath. Sometimes it had its advantages. Like right now, because he found it extremely difficult to concentrate and form sentences.

“…I don’t have them, but I would probably want to have a long hug after something that distraught me like that… but, you are you, so you probably need something else. That’s why I ask what it might be.”

A hug? No. He couldn’t stand a hug right now. He wouldn’t know how to deal with that kind of physical closeness and all the sensory information that came with it.

If it had happened when he was alone, he would just take a shower to wash all those smells, and the pain and the terrible experiences away.

“Then take a shower, if that helps you.”

“Yes, yes, you are right, I should probably do just that, but…”

He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Clara to be with him. To make sure she was in safety. And, maybe a little bit because it made him feel safe, too. When she was with him, everything was less scary. But… He couldn’t very well ask her to join him in the shower, could he? This was weird and wrong.

“Why should it be weird and wrong to have a shower together?”

Difficult.

“I don’t know? Isn’t it weird to ask someone to come shower with you? Doesn’t it imply you… you know, you might want the other to join because you want to do … things?”

“We have talked about ‘things’ before. We don’t do anything the other is uncomfortable with, right? And the only thing you are implying is that you don’t want to shower alone. I’m not uncomfortable to come to the shower with you – neither with waiting outside until you are finished, nor with joining you, whichever you prefer.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He didn’t need a reminder that he was the luckiest man in the universe, but he just got one – again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have a tendency to write my Twelve having his PTSD from Trenzalore. It is because I think while the Time War certainly held a broader variation of atrocities, being the only one defending an otherwise helpless town for 900 years against all the enemies in the universe, on a planet where it is nearly always night, and without someone else to take over the watch so the Doctor could have some hours of undisturbed sleep or just an undisturbed meal, the impact on his personality were greater.


	12. Shower

He leaned his forehead and his hands against the cool tiles and let the cold water drench him. He let it run down his body and soak his clothes. They started to cling to his body. It soothed his nerves. He waited until he was totally drenched. Longer, he waited until the cold water stung on his skin. Even longer, until he was shivering from the cold.

Then, he changed the temperature to warm.

He let himself sink to the bench the TARDIS had created in all the showers. They were quite convenient. She knew her thief well and knew that taking a long shower was what helped him coping when something had gone wrong. She made great shower cabins, his TARDIS. Spacious, open, no doors, nothing that gave him the impression to be captured in a small room with just one escape. Beautiful tile colors that even adjusted to what he needed to calm his nerves. Could be the pattern of a cavern or a jungle, whatever soothed him at the moment and wasn’t prone to bring back bad memories. Today, however, she chose the simple white and anthracite tiling of a human bathroom.

He leaned back and let the warm water flow over him, driving the cold, terrifying, numbing feeling away. It faded and was gone.

Then, he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. The socks followed.

He got up and unbuckled his trousers. It was always a bit of a hassle to get them off because the wet fabric clung to his skin and his boxers. But finally, he got them off and placed them on top of the shirt on the bench. His TARDIS would take care of them later.

When he looked up his eyes met Clara’s. He had completely forgotten that he had asked her to come with him. He had fallen into his usual routine, blocking out reality until he could cope with it again.

Clara was standing outside the shower, leaning to the wall, arms crossed before her naked breasts.

Beautiful.

She eyed him.

Slowly it dawned at him how ridiculous he must look to her. Taking a shower with all his clothes. She must think that he was really a mad, miserable, stupid, ridiculous idiot.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“No need to feel sorry. I just never saw someone taking a shower like that.”

He turned the water off.

“I know… I’m probably a bit… weird… wrong… malfunctioning.”

“I won’t call it that. Does it make you feel better? Showering that way?”

“Oh, yes, it does!”

“Then it’s a good thing. It doesn’t do any damage to you or to someone else, so there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I still feel dumb.”

“Don’t. Taking a shower is great to calm the nerves. I do it myself. Only that I prefer to do it without my clothes. And warm from the start. But I see no reason why you shouldn’t do it the way you do, if it helps.”

It warmed his hearts that she accepted this part of his weird self. 

“I… have never thought about why I do this. It is… you know, if I wait until the cold water stings and I shiver it is as if all the bad things freeze, too. And then, the warm water washes them away and the wet clothes… I don’t know… for a while they feel good on my skin. And then I take them off, because after a while I want to feel the water on my body instead. Sometimes it takes a while until I reach this point.”

It still felt awkward to talk about those things. But she didn’t judge him. That was good. Instead she smiled at him as if he were okay. As if there was nothing wrong and weird about him.

“Well… are you finished, or did you just turn the water off so we can talk? You are shivering again.”

He hadn’t even noticed it.

“I…”

It was difficult. He really wanted to take off his boxers and shower some more. And… he really would like to continue the shower together with her. He wanted to feel her close. This surprised him and made him feel insecure. Usually, he couldn’t stand any body contact after a flashback. However, now, after his nerves had calmed down a bit, there was this strange urge. The thought that it would be great to have her near him. Maybe even feel how her wet skin felt close to his own.

Weird.

He looked into her eyes.

Sometimes he wished he could tell her things over a distance in telepathy, because he really sucked at wording what he wanted.

“Hey, if you are not finished, I could join you, you know?”

She smiled.

He smiled back.

Maybe she was the better telepath?

“That would be great!”

“I just prefer to take my clothes off before they are soaked, if you don’t mind,” she giggled.

He loved her. He loved that she was not taking things so seriously and that she obviously didn’t feel awkward undressing completely in front of him. It encouraged him to take off his boxers, too.

He turned the water on again. He made sure it was not too hot for her fragile human body.

Her fragile human body that was now close to him and completely naked.

“Is it okay for you if I hug you now?”

She asked, smiling at him. She accepted him. She cared about his inhibitions.

“I… I have never hugged… anyone… in a… shower in this incarnation, so I can’t tell you if it will feel uncomfortable,” he paused, “but… I would really like to know how it feels,” he finished the sentence, surprised by his own boldness.

She reached around him, and he wrapped his arms around her. It felt strange. And exciting. Her naked, wet skin against his own. He let his hand glide down her spine.

“How does it feel for you?”

She asked. She cared.

“Wonderful,” he said, letting his hand rest on her perfectly, round bottom that felt as if it had been created as a resting place for his hand. She giggled.

“You like my bottom cheeks,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, sorry,” he blushed, “they just feel so nice and round, I do have the urge to massage them.”

“Don’t hold yourself back, daft old man,” she giggled, “it still is hard to believe it has no sexual connotation for you.”

“It doesn’t. But it is a nice feeling, to touch and massage your body. The offer still stands that I’m here to do whatever makes you feel good.”

“It becomes increasingly hard to resist, do you know that, Doctor?”

She said while her hands now did the same to his body that he did to hers.

It felt nice.

He looked at her and simply had to kiss her.

It was a long, passionate kiss and his brain battled hard against his spirit that urged him to bond with her again.

“We can do that, bond again, you know, Doctor?”

His spirit nearly screamed that it was just a short hop over and he knew her spirit would be already waiting, ready for him.

It took him a lot of willpower to stay responsible.

“I think it is not a good idea. We already bonded earlier and that’s exhausting for the body and the mind. We have to be extra careful with that fragile human brain of yours.”

He didn’t tell her that he also didn’t trust himself enough to keep his spirit from trying to melt with her. He knew that he was in a very weak state of mind after a flashback and he feared that the need for closeness to another spirit might become too overwhelming.

“Hey, we do nothing you feel uncomfortable with, remember? If you think it is a bad idea, and you might regret it later, we just shower together.”

She smiled up to him.

He smiled back and explored more of the excitingly wet, warm, human body in front of him.


	13. Trust

Clara reached to the back of his head and stroked over his wet hair.

“Do you know what I would really like to do, Doctor?”

“What?”

The Doctor asked, a part of him excited, another part scared, because he had no idea what she wanted to do.

“Wash your hair.”

“What?”

“I really would like to wash your hair. I like to touch it and I think it must feel marvelous to wash it.”

Now this was weird. No one had ever expressed the wish to wash his hair. What a strange desire. But he was ready to do anything she wanted him to do and if this was washing his hair, he didn’t have a problem with it. It was there, anyway.

“Well, if it makes you happy, just go ahead, Clara Oswald,” he grinned and sat on the bench, so she had access to his head easily.

Clara took the shampoo and put a small amount on the palm of her hand. She smelled it, smiled and started to apply it on his head.

It was an amazing sensation.

First, she just stroked his head, then she started to rub small semicircles on his scalp with her fingertips, starting on his forehead, moving slowly and gently to the top of his head and behind his ears. Even, symmetrical, never interrupting, a smooth movement.

It relaxed his whole body. He felt it releasing a tension in his shoulders and his neck he hadn’t even realized being there. He just recognized it when he felt more of the cool tiles in his back touching his body.

It also did things to his mind. He wasn’t sure if her movements on his scalp calmed down the different parts of his brain like they relaxed the muscles in his shoulders, or if his brain was just overwhelmed by the sensory information.

He only knew that it all made sense.

He was surprised when he heard a soft, long moan escaping his lips.

“I take it this means you like it,” Clara remarked.

“You have no idea, Clara Oswald. Absolutely no idea,” he uttered.

A part of his brain remarked that he should be embarrassed for enjoying it that much and especially for making himself vulnerable by letting the other person know it, but he didn’t listen to it. He gave up all control over his body and his mind and handed it over to a small schoolteacher from Blackpool with healing fingertips. If this wasn’t safe, he didn’t want to be safe.

He didn’t even care that he forgot shielding his brain and keeping his spirit from doing what it wanted to do.

His spirit immediately closed in on the all too willing female spirit next to him.

_Hey._

_Hey._

_I thought you deemed this too dangerous because we bonded earlier on._

_I don’t care anymore, I needed to feel you._

He let his spirit flow around her, all his love, all his passion, and her spirit answered accordingly, touching his spirit just as lovingly and passionately.

It felt terrific.

He felt all her love and he wanted to melt into this loving spirit now.

To share everything he was.

To share everything he had ever been.

To share every possibility he might ever become.

_Doctor?_

_Clara?_

_I can nearly feel your emotions… there is not much missing now._

_I know. I want to feel you, I want to share everything with you, I want to melt our spirits._

_Doctor, I think it is wiser to break the bond now._

_Why? It feels right. Let’s just do it._

_I don’t think it’s a good idea._

_Why? Are you afraid? Because I’m not afraid anymore._

_Yes. I can feel that. And it’s a good thing you are not afraid anymore. However, a few minutes ago you said it wasn’t even a good idea to bond again today because you feared it could be harmful for me. And I heard you think that you are in a weak state of mind after the flashback, with a high need for closeness. I think if we melt our spirits now, it might be something we regret later. Maybe not that it happened at all, but perhaps that it happened now._

_I want it to happen now._

_I know, I can sure feel that, and I would lie to you if I said I wouldn’t want to._

_So, what?_

_Did you ever have sex with someone when you were drunk?_

_No._

_Could have guessed so. You might think it’s a good idea that night. But when you wake up the next morning, you are hungover and it is really, really awkward. Especially if it happened with a person you cared deeply about, and you wished you had been sober when you had sex the first time._

_Because you don’t remember much? Because I will remember everything._

_No. Because you might not have enjoyed it the way you would have if you had been in your right mind. The first time is something you can’t repeat. And because there will always be that small voice in your head saying that perhaps one took advantage of the intoxicated state of the other, not allowing them the time they needed to be truly ready for it._

_I… you think it is probably too early. Not the right time._

_Exactly. I love to, but I think it doesn’t do any harm if we don’t do it now._

_I… I think I get it._

_So, we just break the bond now, okay?_

_Okay._

He hugged her spirit tight once again and then very, very reluctantly let go.

When he was aware of his surroundings again, he found himself entangled with Clara in an impossible embrace. They were more or less a clew of arms and legs on the bench in the shower and the taste in his mouth told him that there had been an interesting amount of kissing various body parts involved.

The warm water still ran over their bodies.

He looked into Clara’s eyes and the part of his brain that started some thinking again told him that she had just prevented him from making a terrible mistake. She cared about him just as much as he cared about her. She had not been worried about him damaging her, she had been worried about them damaging the trust they had in each other.

“Thank you, Clara Oswald!”

He said softly. The range of emotions he felt was much broader than that, but it was all he could manage right now.

“It’s alright, Doctor. We both have a duty of care.”

They kissed.

Not passionately.

Tenderly.

Caringly.

Lovingly.

It was a kiss that sealed a bond that was possibly closer than anything he ever had with another being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to all of you who thought they would finally melt their spirits. It's called "a long journey" for a reason...


	14. A Broad Foundation

He should be happy.

On his chest rested the most beautiful woman in this universe, her naked body snuggled up to his side, sleeping peacefully. Every now and then she snored softly, which he found utterly adorable.

He should be happy.

But…

He wasn’t happy.

He hated himself.

He had lost control earlier on.

He nearly had let his spirit melt with hers, although he knew it had the potential to damage her.

If Clara hadn’t set him straight…

This was wrong.

He should take care of her, not the other way round.

He was her protector.

He was stronger than her.

He was more experienced than her.

He had the duty of care.

He failed.

“That’s really important to you, taking care of me, right?”

He startled. He hadn’t noticed she had woken up.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry!”

“You were thinking a bit loud, yes. But don’t worry…”

She reached up to stroke his head.

“…Only that this is what you do at the moment, right? You worry.”

He sighed, reached up to catch her hand and brought it to his lips to place a tender kiss on it.

“Yes. Sorry about that. I try not to. Go back to sleep. Humans need more sleep than Time Lords.”

He tenderly placed her hand on his chest and patted it.

“If it worries you so much you can’t sleep, maybe we talk a bit. Maybe you can sleep then, too.”

“I told you Time Lords don’t need as much sleep as you humans do. Don’t worry, get back to sleep, I’m fine.”

“Only that you are a terrible liar, Doctor. You might not need as much sleep as I do, but I know you need some sleep. Don’t forget this you isn’t the first incarnation I know. And you are most definitely not fine.”

He sighed. She was too clever for his liking. He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to brood and worry and loath himself while she slept peacefully in his arms. That way, he felt at least like he was keeping her safe and was watching over her. He knew that this was an illusion and he knew they were safe in the TARDIS, but he was allowed to feel at least a little bit like he was doing something for her, wasn’t he?

“It’s okay, we can do that, Doctor. But first…”

He always forgot that she could read his thoughts when he forgot to shield his brain. Which happened a lot when he was around her, lately.

“…how about if I teach you a secret human recipe against midnight insomnia I learned from my dear mom?”

He liked if she taught him something. And he liked how her eyes sparkled when she said it. And…

“A recipe from your mom? Did you memorize it properly or is it like that soufflé recipe?”

…he couldn’t resist the urge to tease her.

“Oi!”

She slapped him playfully against the chest but smiled as she got up. She put on the bathrobe the TARDIS had provided. The TARDIS had an extraordinarily good fashion sense, it was cut in a way that underlined her beautiful roundish forms, the light turquoise silk was a beautiful contrast to her skin and brought out her eyes.

“Hot chocolate is something even I can manage, Doctor.”

He reached for his own bathrobe, which was black silk with a red lining.

“Hot chocolate? I’m not a 4-year-old.”

Of course, his resistance was only fake. He loved hot chocolate.

Clara smiled and reached out her hand which he gladly took.

“The difference between a 9-year-old who can’t sleep because she feels nobody likes her and she doesn’t meet the standards of her friends at school and a 2,000-year-old who can’t sleep because he feels he doesn’t take enough care of me is that the latter has a sentient time-space machine who has probably already provided some hot chocolate in the library.”

The TARDIS hummed affirmative.

And she was right. When they reached the library, his conspiring old girl had already set two steaming mugs on the table. He definitely had to think of a good way to say ‘thank you’ for her support.

He let himself sink into his favorite armchair and grabbed his mug. Clara lowered herself on the chaise lounge, like she always did. She grabbed her mug and smiled at him. As always. As if nothing else had happened between them. As if they never crossed the line between friends and lovers.

A part of him wished they hadn’t.

He had sealed love away.

It had been a numb feeling, but at least he was safe.

And Clara was safe.

Now, with the new situation he could feel everything again. Everything was new and exciting but also, incredibly scary and dangerous. Maybe he put them both at risk. And for what? For satisfying his selfish desire to melt their spirits. He remembered how much his spirit wanted to cross that line, to let go of all caution and just do it.

If she hadn’t stopped him…

If she hadn’t acted responsible…

He had forgotten his duty of care.

“The thing about hot chocolate is that you drink it hot, you know, Doctor?”

He looked up and saw her smiling at him over the rim of her mug.

He smiled back and took a sip.

It was still damn hot!

“It was just a warning to keep you from digging yourself deeper into your own brooding hole, not a recommendation to immediately burn your throat, Doctor!”

She giggled.

He scowled at her, but only to save his face. She was right, he should stop brooding and just enjoy that he was together with a woman with a great sense of humor.

“Hey, remember the hot chocolate on Betowara?” She asked.

How could he forget? The TARDIS had deemed it safe for consumption, but it turned out it was a highly hallucinogenic and a bit aphrodisiac drink. As soon as he noticed it, he metabolized it quickly to get it out of his system. The rest of the evening he had spent keeping Clara from flirting with aliens who had all but innocent intentions. At some point he hadn’t even been sure if he was protecting Clara from the aliens or the aliens from her. And he had realized that he had a rather jealous feeling towards the younger and more handsome aliens, which let him act more like a possessive boyfriend than a protective companion. Maybe metabolizing the substance out of his body hadn’t gone as smoothly as he had thought.

He cringed at the memory.

Clara giggled.

“You do have a thing for protecting me, Doctor.”

He blushed.

Of course, he had.

“But you, too! Queen Darakyrov!”

He took his revenge.

“She wanted you to marry her sixth tentacle and threatened to kill you if you refused, Doctor!”

“Still, you could have done with just threatening to flood her palace. It was not necessary to force the royal guards to play ‘Scotland the Brave’ on ocarinas!”

“Artistic license! And it sounded amazing, considering they had next to no practice!”

They both laughed. And continued to trump each other telling stories about how one saved the other out of dangerous, potentially fatal, or sometimes just embarrassing situations.

She really had saved him often. But his track record wasn’t too bad, either. And they had so much fun together. She was not only the woman he loved, she was also his best friend and his companion. The one being he had the most fun adventuring with.

She looked to her empty mug, then smiled at him.

“What do you think, Doctor? Should we give that sleep thing a second try?”

“Sounds good. Before you tell more embarrassing bedtime stories and I get nightmares.”

“Well, there is one story you still have to tell me, Doctor.”

“Which one?”

“How did you get me from the library to the bed earlier on?”

He looked at her. Her eyes sparkled and she smirked mischievously. What did she mean? Ah.

“I…”

Ah well, she knew how. It was probably that sort of human question that was not a real question but a secret command to do something. Humans. Complicated. But he got better at reading them. Well, at least he hoped. Better make sure he was right before he did something wrong…

“You would like to know how your body,” he gesticulated to her, “came from the library…” he gesticulated to the bookshelves, “to your bed?” He pointed into the direction of her room.

She nodded and her smirk broadened to a smile.

“Shall I show you?”

She nodded.

He got up and scooped her in his arms. It was easier than last time because now he was well rested and already knew her weight.

She gave a squeal of delight when he lifted her up.

“Am I not too heavy for you, Doctor?”

The part of his brain that was responsible for speeches had worked on his next sentence ever since the first time he had carried her that way.

“You are light as a feather, even if you are not a lightweight at all, Clara Oswald! You carried me often enough, it is only fair that I carry you every once in a while.”

He said softly as he started towards her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some time after those events the Doctor finally finds a way to say "thank you" to his faithful ship who secretly ships them. Of course, he finds a special way because in this case[ words fail...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23356237/chapters/59009050)


	15. The Hybrid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always thought the Hybrid myth must be a heavy burden to carry for a Time Lord and surely gets in the way if they fall in love with an individual from another species…

The longing got stronger. He had hoped that he would be satisfied with just bonding and touching her spirit from time to time, but…

“What worries you, daft old man?”

Clara was doing the markings for her Year 8 while he sat next to her on the sofa and waited until she was ready for another adventure. Of course, it wasn’t necessary that he waited, he was a Time Lord after all, he could land at the exact moment when she was finished and ready to go. But he loved watching her preparing her classes or doing the markings, so he always arrived a bit too early. When she was immersed in the job she loved, she was glowing. At least, that was how it felt for him. She radiated the passion she had for her job and it made her look even more beautiful.

He loved being close to her. He hadn’t had the desire to be so close to someone in centuries. And the thought to feel her even closer, to melt their spirits, to really feel what she felt, in a way, being what she was and showing her how he felt, how it was like to be him… It was a desire much stronger than he recalled.

Her brown eyes looked at him, questioningly. Oh, right, she had asked him a question. What should he say? He still felt awkward talking about… things. And he hadn’t explained the Hybrid to her, so far. One additional reason why they shouldn’t…

She reached out to his face. He flinched. As always. A reflex, something he couldn’t suppress, no matter how hard he tried. A part of him was still afraid of any kind of touch.

She let her hand rest on his temple for a short moment, until he had adapted to the feeling. Then, she gently ran her thumb over his forehead.

“These are your worry lines. You are worried.”

She read him. She could read him like an open book without being a telepath. He smiled. He wished he were just half as good at reading her as she was at reading him.

He reached up and grabbed her hand. He took it down, looked at it and marveled how a hand could be so small and still feel so amazing when it touched him. Perfectly round fingertips with perfectly round nails. He could probably study them for hours without becoming bored and it would be centuries before he would become bored of studying her whole human body...

“I would leave this hand to you for studying it if I could, but I need it for doing the markings, you know?”

He looked up to find her smiling at him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and let go of her hand.

“No need to feel sorry, Doctor. Now, why don’t you tell me what worries you?”

Ah, well. Sooner or later he had to tell her, so why not now?

“There’s a legend on Gallifrey… more, it is a prophecy.”

He searched for words. He wished the part of his brain that did the speeches could word it for him, but somehow, that part refused to work properly when it came to personal things. Especially intimate things.

“A prophecy?”

“Yes… it goes that if two races… two warrior races… there will be the Hybrid if two warrior races… mix. And this Hybrid will probably destroy Gallifrey… at least it says that the Hybrid stands in the ruins of Gallifrey…”

“And now you are afraid that we could create the Hybrid together?”

He nodded. She got him, no matter how clumsy he was with words.

“Doctor… if this is an old prophecy… and you said you had sex with other humans before… how did you prevent yourself from accidentally creating a Hybrid?”

A smile crinkled her lips. As always, she didn’t take it as seriously as he did.

“Ah, well…”

He collected his memories from all the time it had happened. Which wasn’t often and included different centuries and different stages of development in the human race.

“Well, there were… condoms. And sometimes the women took drugs that made female humans infertile.”

Clara giggled.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing… it’s just a funny way to word it. So, why do you think it wouldn’t work with us. Condoms, for example?”

“You forget that this was… regular… regular human sex. So, I was… less… involved… I was aware of my body. I’m not aware of my body when we bond. It is even just an assumption that we will… you know… have sex when our spirits melt. I’m totally clueless what happens with my body when we bond telepathically.”

“But I am aware of our bodies. I could take care of that. Or I could get myself some ‘drugs that make this human female infertile’ like you said.”

“You would drug yourself… just for me?”

Now Clara laughed. It was a nice sound. He didn’t understand why she laughed, but it was good to hear he amused her.

“I would. So, you see, it isn’t really a problem.”

She ruffled his hair.

Good. Or bad? He didn’t like the idea of Clara drugging herself. Maybe condoms were better. Yes, he was rather sure he liked that idea better. But this wasn’t his only concern. There were multiple ways he could think of how the Hybrid could be created. Well, as they were already at it, better to tell her everything that worried him.

“But… there is also the exchange of regeneration energy… what if… what if this creates the Hybrid? Especially as you don’t have regeneration energy to exchange with mine… maybe this could… I don’t know… mess with your inner organs and… maybe you become the Hybrid?”

Clara rested her forehead against his and looked into his eyes.

“Does this sound logical to you, Doctor?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m lacking experience in creating Hybrids.”

She giggled and he had to grin at his own words.

“I tell you what I think about it.”

Clara said and pecked a small kiss on his nose before resting her forehead against his again.

“I think if I were the Time Lords… a very fearful society, snobbish, believing in their own superiority... wanting to maintain supremacy over all the other species in the universe, if I have understood you right?”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He hated to think about them. He felt his hearts clench from the pain of missing his home and the hate he felt for the social order created by the Time Lords.

“I can’t say I have a lot of sympathy for them… But if I were thinking like them… Able to travel through time and space, so meeting all kinds of different species… If I look upon all the other species as inferior and want to keep my own race pure… I would create a myth exactly like the Hybrid. A myth I would tell my children over and over again so they would become afraid of the Hybrid. A myth that would make sure that if they became attracted to an individual from a different species – something that is very likely to happen when you are travelling the universe – they would have a deeply ingrained fear to go into an interspecies relationship and have children with them.”

That… sounded plausible. He had never looked at the prophecy from this angle. It made a lot of sense.

“So, you really think it is just that? A myth?”

“Yes, a myth, a fairytale to scare you.”

“If it is so, it worked well on me.”

He sighed. While her way of thinking made a lot of sense – the Time Lords loved manipulating others – he was not sure he would be able to overcome his deeply ingrained fear of creating the Hybrid. Or being it himself, for that matter. Wasn’t he the offspring of an interspecies couple, too? At least it was one of the possible myths surrounding his own birth. He never found out and the more he tried to find his origins, the stranger and blurrier it got.

“How about me telling you another fairytale?”

Clara asked, interrupting his train of thoughts.

“Another… fairytale?”

He was confused. What did she mean?

“Yes. Here we go: Once upon a time there was a Time Lord keeping his companion, who was a teacher, from doing her markings. She became so distracted she decided she could do it later, anyway, and instead decided to kiss the hugely attractive Time Lord.”

Clara said and did exactly that. He didn’t mind. Not at all. On the contrary. He answered accordingly.

“I already like this story!”

He said when he broke the kiss, only to place his arms more comfortably around her body.

“I’m rather sure this fairytale involves a very curious Time Lord spirit, too.”

Clara replied, her hand already sneaking under his shirt.

“And a human spirit who wasn’t afraid of anything in this universe.”

He mumbled as he kissed her again and felt her very brave spirit reaching for his spirit, who was more than happy to notice that this time, she came looking for him.


	16. Nightmare

He woke up in a mess of thoughts and concepts. What was this place? It looked like… a human mind? It took him a moment until he realized what had happened: while asleep, his spirit had taken the opportunity to crawl into Clara’s mind. Of course, when he was asleep, he was unconscious and therefore, wasn’t able to shield his brain.

He had no control.

Until now, he had assumed that his spirit was asleep when he was asleep, too.

He felt another spirit near.

Hers.

Of course.

His spirit must have had searched for her spirit and had huddled close to it.

Her spirit, however, was tight asleep.

This was not okay.

This was invasive.

He shouldn’t go into her brain without her consent.

He hated himself for not being in control when he was asleep.

He really had grown much too confiding lately.

He had allowed himself to sleep too deep.

He was sure, this would not have happened in a catnap.

He trusted Clara, and so, he had allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep next to her.

And his spirit had grabbed the opportunity.

He immediately tried to break the bond.

But something held him back.

There was something… something that told him Clara’s spirit was not okay.

He felt it.

He concentrated.

Suddenly, he saw it.

Through this whole chaotic mess of thoughts, concepts, expectations, assumptions, and knowledge, he saw something.

It was like a three-dimensional movie.

It was blurry and somehow… wrong. But it was a scene.

He concentrated some more.

Someone lying between bent steel rods, broken wood, and shattered glass.

A railway carriage?

The figure lying there looked familiar.

Grey curls… blood on the face.

Him.

That someone, lying amidst the chaos, bleeding, was him.

He viewed the figure like he was hovering over it.

_Doctor!_

The voice of Clara’s spirit!

_Clara!_

He answered.

_Please be alive!_

_I am alive. Sorry, my spirit must have accidentally bonded with your spirit while we were asleep._

He saw a hand gently touching the chest of the lying figure.

_Doctor! Wake up. Wake up for me._

_I am awake, Clara. I’m here._

Her spirit didn’t react. Instead he felt more and more panic radiating from it, the scene showing now a hand cupping the figure’s – his – face.

_Doctor! Doctor! Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me._

_Clara! I’m here. I’m not leaving you, I’m here!_

He soon realized that her spirit was not aware of his spirit.

Her spirit was thinking that the blurry figure was him and that he was really badly injured.

It dawned at him.

A nightmare.

Clara was having a nightmare and he was witnessing it from inside her head.

_Hey, Clara, I know what it is. It’s a nightmare, just a nightmare!_

Her spirit didn’t react.

_Doctor! Come back to me!_

Her spirit was clearly in panic, thinking he was dead.

He allowed his spirit to flow around her spirit, hugging her protectively.

_Shush, Clara, a nightmare, just a nightmare._

_Doctor, no, please, please, don’t… don’t do that to me!_

It didn’t help. She was so tight asleep and caught in a terrible nightmare that his spirit wasn’t able to wake her.

His spirit softly stroked the shaking spirit.

What could he do?

Well, he was a telepath after all. He could try to manipulate her dream. Get into it, let the figure that was him wake up and hug her and tell her everything was alright.

But…

He was a crappy telepath. He hadn’t manipulated thoughts in a long while and he was not sure he would get it right, especially if the person was not awake but experienced a really bad nightmare. Manipulating dreams was much harder than manipulating conscious thoughts.

Besides, he hated the idea of changing deliberately what another person thought and experienced. It was something the Master did frequently. Many Time Lords did. He had done so, too, in earlier incarnations, but… well, this incarnation didn’t think it was right. It never had been. Even if it had been for a good cause. It just wasn’t the right thing to do.

Especially, he wouldn’t do that to his Clara.

He had to do something else.

He softly retreated his spirit, his very reluctant spirit, from her spirit.

He broke the bond.

He found that he had already unconsciously covered Clara’s body with his body, the way he would have done if he tried to protect her from something that tried to harm her, may it be attacking birds or a collapsing cavern.

He saw the tense expression on her face. She was still stuck in the nightmare.

He carefully shifted his weigh on one arm, so he could reach up and gently cup her cheek.

“Clara!”

He said, using his softest voice so he wouldn’t startle her, stroking her cheek.

“Clara, wake up, it’s just a nightmare.”

She didn’t react.

He softly shook her shoulder.

“Hey, Clara! Clara?”

She still didn’t react.

For a moment, he was scared she wouldn’t wake up.

He intensified the grip on her shoulder.

“Clara, my Clara, wake up!”

He was relieved when her eyes flung open.

“Doctor?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Oh, thank god, Doctor, you are alive!”

Two small, strong arms reached around him and pulled him close. He had some difficulties to shift and balance his weight in a way he wouldn’t crush the small, fragile, human body underneath him.

“Of course, I’m alive, Clara, it was just a nightmare.”

“I was so scared, Doctor!” She whispered.

“There, there, we don’t often travel by train, right?”

She let go of him and their eyes met.

“How do you _know_ ?”

Right, she had been asleep and although he had tried to tell her in telepathy, she hadn’t heard it. He blushed deep purple.

“I’m… I’m sorry. My spirit must have crawled into your mind when I was tight asleep. I didn’t know it could do that, honestly, it wasn’t my intention to do so. I immediately retreated when I realized it.”

She looked at him, obviously trying to understand what he had told her.

“You saw my nightmare?”

He carefully retreated to get out of her slapping range, which made her frown even more.

“Well, yes, I did. But only by accident. I would never deliberately try to spy your dreams!”

She still frowned. She was clearly cross with him, and rightly so.

But she didn’t slap him.

She just silently got up and left the room.

He stared after her, helpless and confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare is based on a train accident happening in the original story [Unwanted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24497869/chapters/59134585) by [agoodtuckering](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodtuckering/pseuds/agoodtuckering), where it is the event that starts things in a very sweet romance. Hop over and give it a read!


	17. Memories

The Doctor had no idea what he should do now. Clara had left the room after he confessed that his spirit had been inside her head while she was asleep. He didn’t know what the right reaction would be. Should he leave her alone? Should he follow her and try to talk to her? What should he tell her? What more could he do than apologize?

Humans were complicated.

And his spirit was an idiot.

He was an idiot.

But he didn’t know his spirit was awake when he was asleep.

So, it was not really his fault.

But he felt guilty and ashamed because it happened.

He had apologized.

But she hadn’t forgiven him.

She hadn’t slapped him.

She hadn’t even shouted at him.

He could have done with a slap or a rubdown.

But her reaction had been worse.

Just leaving him, without a word.

And without a clue what he could do to set things straight again.

He rubbed his face.

He had never felt this helpless, lost and at his wits’ end since he was together with Clara.

He would try to talk to her. Hadn’t Clara told him time and again that talking helped? That most misunderstandings between humans were due to people not talking enough and therefore, led to terrible mistakes?

He got up and started searching the TARDIS. Clara wasn’t in the console room, not in the library, not in the kitchen… in none of her favorite spots. He started to look in the more unusual rooms like the wardrobe and the workshop. No Clara.

His TARDIS hummed and gently showed him a path on the floor with discreet lightening. It led to the room that had an artificial moor inside. He called it his “brooding moor” because he went there when he had thinking to do or was confused about something.

“I wanted to look for Clara, not brood,” he mumbled.

The TARDIS hummed that he should just trust her and go inside.

Clara stood there, between the patches of heather, arms folded, looking out to the horizon over the moor, the way he often did when he had to think about things that troubled him.

He went to her side but kept a respectful distance.

“Clara?”

He asked softly.

She turned to look at him. Her eyes were inflated and there was water in her eyes and on her cheeks. He hated when she cried. It made him sad because she was sad. And he never knew how to react to it.

She didn’t say anything. She just let out a small sob and brushed tears from her cheeks.

It confused him even more. If she would accuse him, he could react to it. If she wanted to shout at him, he was more than ready to endure it. If she wanted to slap him, his cheeks were ready for it. The way he felt right now, he wouldn’t even have a problem with her punching him.

But her silence ripped his hearts apart.

Well, he couldn’t stay silent. He needed to explain and hopefully, she would forgive him. He silently begged the part of his brain responsible for speeches to do the best it could.

“Clara, I’m terribly sorry this has happened. I would never go to your brain if you are not fully aware of it and I always respect your privacy, so, even when we might bond accidentally because I’m a lousy telepath, I will always try to avert my thoughts and not snoop around. I just assumed that my spirit is asleep when I am asleep and so I didn’t expect this to happen. I haven’t slept so close to a human being for over 900 years and I think I never trusted someone enough I would fall so tight asleep that I can’t control what happens. Look, I think we can fix this. I don’t need so much sleep, I’m not even used to it anymore, I’m sure I can get back to catnaps. And if we put a pillow or a blanket between us so that we don’t accidentally touch, there is no danger of it ever happening, again. Or we just sleep in separate rooms, that’s even safer. Yes, I think that would perhaps be for the best.”

Clara looked at him with her inflated, watery eyes. The longer he spoke, the more water filled her eyes. He hated it. And it made him feel even more insecure. What if she started to cry? What if she didn’t say anything? What if she sent him away because he had betrayed her trust?

“Clara, please, just say something… anything… you can shout at me and slap me and call me and idiot but please, please… just talk to me!”

“Sorry, Doctor…”

At least she spoke again, even if her voice was hoarse and low. He looked into her eyes and he was scared. Scared of what she would say to him. Would she send him away? He was not prepared to be sent away. She had made herself essential to him. She had given him something he hadn’t had for ages. The feeling of being accepted… and loved. He had lost Gallifrey, he had lost his home, but, in a way, Clara was his home. He was not sure he could survive when she sent him away.

“…it’s just… It was a horrible nightmare and… and… you reading my dreams… it….”

She started to sob.

“…it brought back so many bad memories…”

Now, the tears ran down her cheek. He was not sure what he should do. Bad memories… if his own memories haunted him, he usually wanted to be left alone. Well, not always. Sometimes… Perhaps… she wanted something else… he should just ask.

“Bad memories? Should I… just leave you alone for a bit? Or… I don’t know. Bring you something? Something that helps you… I don’t know… Tea, perhaps? Or cookies? Or… a blanket?”

She looked up and stretched out her arms.

Oh.

“A hug?”

He asked, hesitantly, because he couldn’t make sense of it. She was cross with him and still, she wanted him to hug her? That was really odd.

She nodded.

Well, he could do that, if she let him that near again. Even if he didn't understand it. He hesitantly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She let her head sink to his chest and a crying fit shook her whole body. He rested his chin on her head and tenderly stroked her back.

He wondered which bad memories his intrusion had brought about. He knew terrible memories well enough. He knew how they could torture a mind. He thought of all the times he had been here, in this room, staring at the moor because he had a nightmare and he was afraid of going back to sleep. His nightmares were all too often just memories in disguise. He wondered if it was the same for Clara.

He thought of all the times the memories tortured him so bad even when he was awake that he secretly went to Clara’s flat when she wasn’t there, just to sit on her sofa, to inhale her smell, until he felt strong enough to go on. And sometimes, he would send the TARDIS to land near Clara wherever she was, claiming that he accidentally set the wrong date and coordinates. Just so he didn’t need to be alone with himself and his memories. 

He just hoped that Clara’s memories weren’t _that_ bad. He didn’t dare to ask, and he didn’t know what else to say to soothe her.

And so, he just held his small, sobbing human in his arms and wished he could do something, _anything_ to make it better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of the brooding moor is stolen from the fic [ Sheep Go To Heaven](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635399) by FernDavant.


	18. Shadows Of The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **// Trigger warning: sexual harassment, bullying, blackmailing, victim blaming, depression, eating disorder**
> 
> Guess you wondered why Clara reacted in such an extreme way. You will have guessed that she has her reasons. That’s why this chapter is a bit longer.

Slowly the sobbing died down. The Doctor still felt at a loss what he should do now. Not knowing what happened and not being able to do something made him feel uncomfortable. And, if Clara didn’t talk to him, he didn’t know if she would send him away. He needed to find out.

“Is it… is this…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He hated goodbyes and he hated _talking_ about goodbyes even more.

Clara looked up to him and he couldn’t help but wipe a tear from her cheek with his thumb. He hated when water came from her eyes. He wanted to know what made her cry and he wanted to beg her to give him a second chance, but he felt pathetic for doing so. If she thought he had betrayed her trust, she had every right to throw him out of her life.

He made a second attempt.

“I… I’m terribly sorry that this has happened. Please, believe me when I say that I didn’t mean to… And if you want to send me away because of it, I understand.”

“Send you away? Why should I want to send you away?”

Clara sniffled, took a step back and her brown eyes looked at him, incredulous.

“Because of what I just did. Because I was inside your head without your permission.”

He answered, perplexed by her question.

“But you already apologized for it. And I get that you didn’t do it on purpose.”

Okay. Now, he didn’t understand anything anymore.

“But… why… did you run off, then?”

He didn’t understand. He couldn’t make sense of human beings, even after 2,000 years. Usually, he didn’t care. But this human mattered, he wanted to understand this human, _his_ human better.

She looked at him, hugged herself protectively and turned to stare at the moor again.

“It’s a long story,” she shrugged.

“I got time. I’m a Time Lord and this is a time machine. And I like stories.”

“It is not a good story. It is not even an interesting story. It will bore you.”

“If it is the story about what makes my favorite human run away from me and hide in my brooding moor, it can’t be boring.”

“Is this what you call this room? Your ‘brooding moor’?”

“I do,” he nodded and was relieved to see a small smile crinkle her lips, “well, the TARDIS called it a ‘brooding moor’ and I found it rather fitting. I always come here if I have to think about… things.”

“I like it. It has a very… contemplative atmosphere. It seems it has a calming effect on my nerves. I felt instantly better when I went in here.”

It made him happy. He couldn’t explain why, but it made him incredibly happy that she liked this room for exactly the same reasons he liked it.

“Oh, yes, it does the same for me,” he confirmed, “now, how about…”

He looked around and noticed that the TARDIS had materialized a picnic blanket next to them. He thanked his faithful friend in telepathy for thinking ahead.

“…how about we sit here, and you just tell me about…”

He searched for a word for the complex of running away from him and hiding in his brooding moor and not wanting to talk about it. He couldn’t find one and so ended the sentence simply with:

“…it.”

The part of his brain that was responsible for speeches cringed. Another part told it to shut up because it was this part who refused to help wording it better.

“You can… even… you know… use me as a pillow or whatever it is you like to do with me.”

He offered and she smiled at him, but there was still a disturbed look in her eyes. They both sat down, but she kept the distance.

Clara hugged her knees and started to tell him about a time when she was fourteen, slowly and hesitantly at first, but she grew more confident while she spoke.

She had a good friend she trusted back then. He was her best friend and she told him all about her troubles. One day, when she came back from the toilet, she found him reading her diary. He apologized and said he only read it by accident, because he didn’t know what it was, and she believed him. But then, she had caught him doing it again. She was devasted. He had betrayed her trust.

But, even worse, that way, he found out that she wasn’t in love with him.

As far as the Doctor understood, Clara had never given that boy any hints that she saw him as her boyfriend, but the boy had assumed that their relationship was something more than just friendship.

“Human relationships are really confusing.”

He uttered, thinking back on how he felt about Clara when he wore the bowtie and the tweed. And about how difficult their relationship had been when he regenerated. And that until recently, he hadn’t been sure how Clara felt about this new version of him.

He felt the need to say something more and thought about the story she just told him.

“I… think I understand that me being inside your head was like that boy reading your diary. But… I… don’t really understand why you ran away from me.”

“There was more to it… after he discovered that I didn’t love him, but had a crush on my arts teacher instead, he… apparently he got very angry. He stole the diary and sold it to the class bully.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah… and the class bully blackmailed me. He threatened he would reveal what I had written about the arts teacher and other people.”

“Oh. This is really, really bad.”

He didn’t really understand it, but he sure would be embarrassed if someone revealed some of his thoughts to people he thought this thoughts about, so he understood that this was really bad.

“Yeah… well… I didn’t have any money, but the bully told me I could pay him... with other things.”

“Other things?”

“Yes.”

“What things?”

“Things.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He felt anger welling up. He felt the urge to go back in time and punch that bully. Really hard. He told her so. She smiled.

“Don’t. You know what you told me about changing the past. Besides, I refused. Which led to him pinning pages from my diary on the school’s bulletin board…”

Clara closed her eyes as if in pain. Probably the painful memories. She opened them again.

This was really, really bad. Maybe he could do at least something that would embarrass that bully in public and in front of his friends… Clara didn’t need to know.

“The rest of this school year and the next was horrible for me. My friends… or the ones I thought were my friends… they made fun of me… or said it was my fault, that I was responsible for it, had more or less provoked it… The class bully… he… made several other approaches, offering to stop his friends from saying bad things about me if I just… when he learned that I was not willing to give in, not doing to him what he wanted me to do, he doubled his efforts, started to spread rumors about me, saying that I… slept with him and several of his friends…” a tear escaped her eye and she quickly brushed it away, “the teachers… ah, well…” she closed her eyes, sobbed, and fell silent.

He wanted to reach out and wrap her in his arms. But she had kept the distance, so she probably didn’t want to be touched. He couldn’t stand to be touched when he was disturbed and tortured by memories. Maybe it was the same with humans.

He tried to think about something, _anything_ to say, but no part of his brain came up with a phrase that seemed fitting. So, he just sat there, helpless, looking at the small, huddled figure of the smart, beautiful, sad woman he loved and cursed himself for not having made the effort to understand how humans and human relationships worked in the last 2,000 years. It never seemed important to him. Now, it would be crucial, and he didn’t know. It was like going into a cave without a rope and a torch. And snacks. Exactly like that. He was together with this human being, but he was terribly unprepared for helping her.

After a while Clara spoke again.

“I was… not eating right… my parents… they didn’t know everything… just the thing with the billboard, not the other things… they became worried and sent me to a doctor, because they thought I was ill. I was… I know that now, but it wasn’t physically ill, you know? The doctor sent me to other doctors… Finally, there was one doctor who was different, one I trusted, one I told the whole story. She was no expert herself, but she sent me to a friend of her who was a really good therapist. Eventually, it got better… I went to therapy. I went to another school. I made new friends. It got better… I don’t think about it very often…”

Clara looked up with her teary eyes and attempted to smile at him but failed.

“But somehow, you being inside my head without me knowing – it triggered all those bad feelings from the past again… I felt like I was fourteen again, as if it started all over again… and finding you on top of me, feeling your breath… oh, for a moment it was as if… difficult to describe… it was as if _you_ were the bully… I needed to get out and run away from you. I know this is hard to understand. I’m… sorry it scared you.”

She was sorry? She shouldn’t feel sorry for him. It had been his mistake. And she hadn’t scared him. Oh, well, yes, she had scared him, scared him terribly. He had thought she would send him away and this was still a pretty scary thought.

“No, no, no… don’t be sorry, it was completely my fault!”

That was good, wasn’t it? Saying that it was his fault? Because it was his fault.

And he knew very well how this felt. He found himself often enough back on Trenzalore because something reminded him of it. But it was probably not something that would help her, was it? If he told her about how often he found himself on the battleground again and that it was like it was real and that it was painful and scary experience? No. It probably wouldn’t help to tell her something else that was also terrible and involved dead people on top of that.

What else could he say? She looked so broken and fragile and it made his hearts clench thinking that he was responsible for it.

“I’m sorry, Clara, I didn’t mean to... make you feel bad. I didn’t mean to threaten you and bring bad memories… I… I am a bad telepath and I will make sure it won’t happen again. I’m terribly, terribly sorry this all has happened to you.”

This was probably also not the right thing to say, but the only response he could cobble together right now.

“I know, Doctor. It’s okay, really. Don’t worry. It’ll be alright.”

She didn’t look alright. There was no water in her eyes anymore, but she looked… well, not as healthy and happy and pink as she looked when she was alright.

“Is there… anything… I can do?”

“I don’t know… it is better already. I just feel disturbed… and exhausted… maybe… I just go back and try to sleep again.”

“Maybe for the best,” he nodded, lacking a better idea.

She got up, then stretched out her hand towards him.

“You want me to come with you?”

He was surprised. He had assumed she would want to sleep alone, now.

“Sure. I might need someone who protects me from my nightmares,” she looked into his eyes and smiled, “…and the dark shadows of the past.”

Humans. Complicated. Very, very hard to understand. In his thinking, this was a complete change of heart within microseconds. He really had to do more research on human relationships. But not now. She wanted him to come with her and he was happy to obey.

“I’ll see what I can do, Clara Oswald,” he smiled as he grabbed her hand and got up.


	19. In Sync

It was not the first time they slept in the same bed together, but after this incident with the nightmare, he didn’t know how to do it right. He felt as awkward as if they never had done this before. So, he stood as stiff as a poker while he watched Clara crawling under the covers.

“Are you not going to lie down?”

She eyed him, curious.

“I… I’m not sure how. I sure will try just to catnap, but I can’t figure out the right position… If… even if I accidentally fall asleep, and sleep too deep… our bodies shouldn’t touch, so it is safe for you.”

“Lie down here,” she patted on the free side of the bed.

As always when she wanted him to do something, he obeyed the order.

She rested her forehead against his and looked into his eyes.

“I think I forgot to say thank you.”

“Thank you? For what?”

It didn’t make any sense.

“For waking me up from this terrible nightmare.”

She kissed him, which surprised him even more. Hadn’t she just said the occurrence had disturbed her? He didn’t mind, of course.

Her hands crawled under his shirt and gently started stroking his chest. He took it as an invitation to do the same to her. Not bonding had its advantages – he could enjoy how her warm body felt against his slightly cooler body. Warm and exciting. And how incredibly soft and smooth her skin was. He was sure that there was no smoother surface in this universe than the skin of _his_ Clara.

For a while, they enjoyed just that. Kissing and caressing and exploring each other’s body.

“I think your spirit deserves a ‘thank you’, too,” she said after a while. “If it hadn’t decided it wanted to crawl over to me, you probably wouldn’t have recognized I had a nightmare and wake me up from it. So, come on over, you are welcome.”

His spirit was more than glad to hear that, and the Doctor reluctantly gave his permission.

Their spirits immediately wrapped each other into a tight mental embrace, flowing around each other, feeling each other near.

_Hey!_

_Hey!_

_I missed you._

_I wasn’t away too long._

_I didn’t recognize you were there._

_I know, you were asleep. Sorry again._

_Don’t feel sorry. I’m just glad you are here._

Her spirit radiated not only love and affection, but also a strong desire. It always had been there, but tonight it was stronger than ever.

For some time, the two spirits just explored each other, flowing around, tickling, stroking, rubbing, feeling each other.

_Doctor?_

_Clara?_

_I want to feel you. I want to feel what you feel and be what you are. Let us melt our spirits._

His spirit nearly screamed that it wanted to do this, he felt her spirit was ready to do it and he could nearly feel his body. The desire was equally strong.

But something held him back.

_What makes you hesitate, daft old man?_

To his surprise, it wasn’t the fear of the Hybrid that held him back. Or the fear of damaging her. They had bonded several times now and it seemed to have no negative effect on her. And it wasn’t that he felt not ready for it – he really wanted to cross that final line. He wanted to share with her everything he was, everything he had ever been, every possibility he felt within himself.

Something else held him back. Something that reminded him of something. Something that had happened not too long ago. The shower.

_The shower?_

_Yes. I think… this is similar._

_To a shower?_

_Yes. No. It is… you remember, when we took the shower together and I wanted to melt our spirits… and you held me back?_

_Yes. Because it was shortly after you had a flashback. You were in a vulnerable state of mind._

_And so are you now, Clara. After the nightmare and the bad memories._

_What? No. I’m just happy to be together with you and I don’t want our spirits to be separated. I want to finally feel your emotions when we bond, too._

_Yes. And I feel the same… but still… I think… it doesn’t hurt if we wait a little longer. Make it special, you know? Like you said: there is no second time for the first time?_

_Yes…_

_We have a duty of care, right? One for the other? You and me?_

_Yes… yes… you are probably right._

He retreated his spirit and found himself lying on his back, Clara on top. They were both completely naked and he still felt a bit awkward for not knowing what he did and didn’t do with his body once they bonded.

Clara smiled down at him and she didn’t look as if there was anything to complain about.

She bowed down and gave him a long, tender kiss.

“Mark it in your calendar, daft old man. The day I admitted you were right.”

He smiled up at her.

“If they make me president of Gallifrey once again, I will make it a national holiday,” he promised, letting his hand glide from her cheek down to her chin, over her throat, down to her beautiful left breast, to her back, to finally find a resting place on her left bottom cheek.

“Clara’s Day?”

“No, every day is Clara’s Day for me… it will the ‘Care Day’. The day couples will celebrate all the occasions in the past year where the other one was right. And they will celebrate they have a considerate partner who takes care of them.”

“Awww,” she said and bowed down for another long kiss. He secretly congratulated the part of his brain that was responsible for speeches for the excellent wording.

“Sleep time now, for tired little humans?”

He grinned.

“Hey! I’m not tired!”

She slapped his chest playfully.

“Oh, yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes. Just sleep and I will keep the watch.”

She crawled under her duvet.

“Spoon?”

He still found it odd that humans called a sleeping position after cutlery, but he happily obeyed, wrapping his body around her back, resting his knees in the backs of her knees. It was a protective position. He liked being the big spoon. It was also a great position to smell her hair. He also liked being the little spoon, but not today. Today, he wanted to protect his small human from all the bad things and terrible people that were out there.

But there was still something that worried him.

“I… I’m not sure if I can really stay awake. Especially if you smell that good.”

Her small hand intertwined with his large hand and as always he thought that his fingers were too big and clumsy for her tiny, elegant, fragile fingers.

“You sleep, too, Doctor, it’s alright. And if your spirit decides it wants to come over, it’s alright, too. It just shouldn’t be afraid of nightmares. They are very likely to happen in my head.”

He was touched by her trust in him. It warmed his hearts. At the same time, he didn’t like to hear that nightmares were a regular occurrence for her, too. Maybe, in some regard, they were too much alike.

He kissed her hair, then rested his chin on her head.

“No nightmares for you tonight, Clara Oswald. Me and my spirit will fend them off when they come.”

“That’s good,” she mumbled, sleepily.

“Sleep well, Clara Oswald,” he whispered.

She relaxed in his arms and after a short while, she was tight asleep.

He, however, fulfilled his promise and kept the watch.

He needed to think about many things and he didn’t want his spirit to crawl over without her noticing it, but most of all, he enjoyed feeling her warm, naked body close to his own and her soothing smell far too much to fall asleep right now.

He was a Time Lord, but he had never really used his time to _enjoy_ moments like this. It was high time he started doing it. He carefully saved this moment and stored it in a very special place in his mind, stored every little detail, the way she smelled, the way she felt and the way she breathed with a soft snore every once in a while. He allowed his own breathing to fall in sync and thought that it was one of the nicest feelings he had in ages:

_Being in sync with Clara Oswald._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, after the painful trip into Clara's past, they did deserve a bit of romantic fluff and cuddling, didn't they?


	20. I get by...

He did a lot research on human relationships, lately. He had no experience with them, and he wanted to get it right. It was extremely complicated and confusing. He read a lot of books and watched a lot of movies, but they left him more confused than enlightened.

What worried him most was that humans, while extremely peculiar about anniversaries and holidays, seemed to have no way to make the first melting of spirits special. Which perhaps didn’t come as a surprise as humans didn’t have a concept of telepathic sex. Well, there was a concept of honeymoon and the wedding night, but somehow… all the customs around that seemed strange. Not to mention they involved family, and this wasn’t feasible in their case. And it felt odd to celebrate something so intimate with family and friends. Besides, the customs sounded and looked horrible to him.

He needed advice on that whole subject matter of human relationships.

Unfortunately, a sentient and extremely intelligent space-time-machine was not helpful in that context. Humans were just as strange to her. He needed advice from a human being. Preferably, a female human being. And a human being he trusted enough to let them see inside his hearts and his mind. And who – and here it got really complicated – weren’t Clara.

He mentally skipped through his past companions, which included a lot of happy, but also very sad memories. He concluded that there was one companion, one very close, wise, compassionate friend, he felt he could ask and tell everything.

Unfortunately, she was also someone he had treated terribly in the past.

He owed her an apology anyway, but until now he had always postponed it…

It was somehow typical that he would come crawling to her for a relationship advice now, while he never had cared about her feelings while they had been travelling together.

He only hoped she was able to forgive him.

He skipped through different options until he found a spot in her timeline where there was no risk of meeting his past self. He set coordinates and pulled the lever.

Two dark brown eyes pinned him when he stepped out of his TARDIS. At the very first moment they had glistered with joy and disbelief but had changed to disappointment and suspicion instantly.

“Martha Jones!” He said, grinning excited upon seeing her again.

“Who… who are you?”

Ah, right… regeneration.

“I am the Doctor!”

“No, you are not!”

“Ah, come on, Martha, I am. I just regenerated, new body, new personality, you know?”

He gesticulated from his head to his toes and tried to strike a pose that had been typical for sandshoes him.

Martha blinked at him, obviously trying to make sense of the situation.

“You… you have regenerated into an old man?”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t call it old… more well-aged, like wine. You could even call me a silver fox,” he ran his fingers through his curls, “and, no, from your perspective I have first regenerated into an even younger man with a bowtie and longer hair, bit of the hyperactive type, not sure if you would have liked him. Although… ah, well, useless to speculate. And _then_ I have regenerated into this me. Hello again, Martha Jones!”

“That’s it… you say goodbye to regenerate, and then, two years later, you just land the TARDIS in my flat, being the Doctor after the Doctor after the Doctor and all you have to say is ‘Hello again’?”

He shuffled his feet. She was mad at him. Well, rightly so. And he had already thought a lot about what to say and how to say it, but nothing seemed to work right, so he had decided to improvise. Obviously, that, too, hadn’t worked out too well.

“No… indeed there are so many things I want to tell you that I don’t know where to start and so, ‘hello again’ sounded not too bad.”

He sighed. Martha still stared at him as if he were a ghost. He couldn’t blame her for that. Well, he had to get it all off his chest…

“Martha Jones, I have lived for over 2,000 years and not all of them were good. I made many mistakes and I try to use this incarnation to make amends, at least for some of them.”

She frowned. He took a deep breath. He just hoped the part of his brain that was responsible for speeches would do its best.

“You travelled with me shortly after I lost Rose and so I treated you terribly, simply because you were not her, instead of valuing the brilliant new companion I was blessed with. I chose an extremely racist point in history and within that an extremely racist surrounding when I hid from the Family of Blood. Worse, I took advantage of that fact, putting you into the position of a servant and, instead of at least protecting you from the insults, shrugged them off as typical for the period. I never, for the whole time we travelled together, acknowledged your feelings or supported your ambitions to become a doctor in any way, although I took advantage of your medical knowledge and skills more than once.”

Hearing what he did wrong spoken out loud made it even clearer to him how badly he had treated her and how deeply indebted he already was to her. Right in this microsecond he decided not to ask her about his problem. Because if he really, truly meant to apologize for his behavior, he shouldn’t repeat it by taking advantage of her – again.

“And still, although I behaved in the worst possible manner, you stood with me. And for that, I want to say thank you. And I hope you believe me when I say that I’m really, truly sorry for what I did.”

He let his head sink to his chest, nearly not daring to look up seeing her reaction to his words. Martha first frowned, then tilted her head and looked at him. There was a long moment of silence. Then, the frowning disappeared and she smiled and shrugged.

“No apology needed, Doctor. But thank you for it, anyway!”

She stepped towards him; her arms stretched out. He took a step backwards. Hugging was still complicated if it came from someone else but Clara.

“You really are a different man,” she mused.

“I guess so. I hope a better one,” he managed a small smile. “Well, that’s what I wanted to get off my chest,” in his opinion, that was an acceptable lie, considering the circumstances, “I’m sure you will be an awesome doctor. If there is anything I can do to support you, please let me know. And… I still have your phone, so, whenever you need me, just call me. It doesn’t need to be an emergency. It doesn’t have to be important. Even if you just, you know, need someone to talk to, call me and I will be there for you, Martha Jones.”

He made the ‘call me’ gesture and turned to go.

“Doctor? We… can talk now, you know? I mean, it is nice that you came to apologize, but we haven’t seen each other for two years – from my perspective, at least, so what about some tea and a chat?”

And so, they sat and talked. At first, the Doctor listened to what happened in Martha’s life. It had been just two years but there had been so much going on. She was a full-fledged doctor now, looking for a job. He made a mental note to talk to UNIT about it. The relationship with her family was still tight and not always easy. She had been together with a professor from university, but it hadn’t ended well. The Doctor paid much closer attention to that detail and the reasons the relationship became toxic than he would have earlier in his life. She was single now, enjoying her independence.

“What about you, Doctor?” She finally asked.

He gave her a quick run-down of what happened since he regenerated from sandshoes him into bowtie him and finally into this him.

“What a ride!” She remarked.

“You’d say,” he agreed.

“So… are you travelling with someone, now?”

He had carefully avoided mentioning Clara until now. He fell silent, wondering if she would take it wrong if he talked about that topic.

“Yes, oh, yes, I’m travelling with someone.” he finally said, staring at his tea as if the answer to what he should do was in it.

“Why do I have the impression that this someone is more than just a companion to you?”

Humans. Not telepathic. But perceptive.

He sighed, torn between telling her everything and just finishing his tea and saying goodbye.

“I just told you everything that is troubling me right now, so, why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you, Doctor? You know, this is how friendships work, usually. At least for humans.”

She smiled encouragingly.

And so, he started to unburden both his hearts…


	21. ...with a little help...

It was their third pot of tea now, and he really appreciated that Martha Jones sacrificed her time to explain human females to him. One of his first lessons had been that it was offensive to call them “females”. Human women from Earth, that was the correct term.

There were so many things to learn he hadn’t known until now. Perhaps because his past selves never had been really interested in having a long-term relationship with a human being. He was, now, no matter how short this long-term would be. He was eager to learn. It was interesting. And confusing. And very, very frightening. He was not sure if he could remember all of it – not to mention getting it right.

He told Martha his thoughts.

“It’s not about getting it right all the time, Doctor. No one can get it right all the time in a relationship. It is more important she sees you care enough to never give up trying.”

Well, then. If she said so. He certainly would never stop trying, never had. Never giving up was part of his promise, more, part of his personality. He was good at never giving up.

He finally touched the topic he originally came to ask her about.

“There is this… one… thing. We haven’t melted our spirits, yet, and… it is something special, at least for me, it is. Well, for her, certainly, too. At least, when she experiences it, which is a feeling… ah, well... And… I want it to be special. I feel it should be… I don’t know how to say this… a proper celebration.”

He told Martha about melting celebrations on Gallifrey.

According to Martha what he was looking for didn’t exist in human terms. She equated the first melting of the spirits with the first sexual intercourse for humans and this sounded plausible to him. But unfortunately, there was nothing like a human celebration for that, at least not in what she called the “Western culture”. 

Of course, there was the “wedding night” and some couples really waited until then. But as he understood it, often the wedding celebrations did include such an amount of alcohol that precisely nothing happened that night. Besides, he was already married, although… it was complicated… probably his next meeting would also be… goodbye to River… He wasn’t ready for that. He hated goodbyes. And he didn’t want to think about this topic too long.

Martha said that more commonly the “first time” took place during the timespan when humans became adults and it was a rather awkward experience. Celebrating it before it happened would add additional pressure and push the bar of expectations even higher for the deep fall that came with it. It sounded like developing into a human adult was a really confusing and awkward time and he was just glad he didn’t have to go through that process. Even regeneration sounded more enjoyable than being a teenager on Earth.

Later, adults usually just “ended up in bed” after dating a few times or even just after a few drinks. It did sound like something between half-planned and somehow expected. Nothing really special. It seemed odd to him.

“That’s… I don’t know… somehow… disappointing. Because, it is something special, right? There is no second time for a first time.”

Martha scratched her head and smiled at him.

“You are a true romantic, Doctor, you know that?”

He looked at her, confused. What was a romantic?

“None of my boyfriends would have had the idea to… celebrate… the first time. I think the thought alone would have melted my heart.”

That didn’t sound good. It sounded painful.

“So… it isn’t a good idea to do that with a human,” he said, slightly disappointed.

“On the contrary, Doctor. It is an endearing idea. I think… whatever you come up with – and I fear you have to think of your very own, unique ceremony, Doctor – Clara will absolutely appreciate it. It is such a… great sign of how much you respect and value her and your relationship that I think it will make her very happy.”

That sounded good. He wanted Clara to be happy.

“What do you think would… make her… especially happy?”

He wanted to know and couldn’t think of a better person to explain it to him than this woman from Earth.

They needed another pot of tea for her to explain the concept of “romantic” to him. At least the rough outline of it. It was so difficult. It depended on so many different things, human beings as such, the characters involved, the culture, the upbringing… he had the feeling his head exploded from all the new concepts and things to consider.

He finally let his head sink to his hands and rubbed his face.

“I don’t think I can do this. It is too complicated,” he admitted.

“I’m sure you can. You will think of something perfect for the two of you.”

Martha smiled encouragingly at him.

“Let’s hope!”

He said, slowly getting up. He had much thinking to do. And he had wasted enough of her precious time.

Martha got up, too.

“You know, you changed a lot, Doctor. You really _are_ older now. Older and more considerate… and, if it wouldn’t be offensive for a Time Lord, I’d even say more _human_.”

“After I have learned how complicated humans are, I take it as a compliment, Martha Jones,” he smiled.

“So… this is goodbye for another long while?”

Was he imagining it, or did she look and sound a bit sad?

“No… not necessarily, Martha Jones. I told you to call me, and I mean it. Even if there is nothing special or important. And…” he had a thought that was new and strange to him… perhaps he really started to think more _human_ … “I don’t know, but maybe… is it a human thing to introduce a partner to your friends? Because… I’m rather sure Clara would like to meet you when I tell her about you.”

“It _is_ a human thing, Doctor. I would be delighted to meet her. From the way you described her she must be someone very special.”

He blushed and looked to his feet.

“Oh yes, she is. She is,” he looked up to meet her eyes, “and so are you, Martha Jones. You are a very special human woman from Earth. Thank you, for listening, and thank you for your advice.”

She smiled and stretched out her arms.

“Hug now, Doctor?”

He took a step forward.

“I’m still relearning how to do that, so bear with me,” he smiled sheepishly while carefully placing his arms around her. He only had trained this with Clara, so he hoped he managed it in a way that was appropriately chaste.

Martha tightened her grip around him and pulled him close.

“Good luck, Doctor, for both of you.”

“Good luck, to you, too, Martha Jones. And, thank you… thank you for everything.”

He broke the hug and waved a last goodbye before he went to set coordinates to his favorite thinking lake. He had a lot of thinking to do and the lakes of Zefra 9 were perfect for it.


	22. ...from my friends.

He scribbled with a stick in the black sand. On one side he scribbled everything that Clara liked. Travelling. Adventures. Teaching. Les Misérables. Jane Austen. Motorbikes. Sunsets. Dancing. Stargazing. Italian food. Chinese food. Wine. Bowties. Silly movies. Campfires. Beaches.

On the other side, he scribbled everything he liked. Clara. Adventures. Stars. Planets. Black holes. Supernovas. Rock’n’roll. Electric guitars. Sunglasses. Puffins. Otters. Jelly Babies. The little white puffy flowers from Anraghan 24 that smelled like cinnamon. Stones that had a different shade on different sides. Food, all kinds of.

He took a step back and looked from one side to the other. He wasn’t sure that this was getting him any further.

He took a seat on a nearby rock.

“Troubles, Doctor?”

The Doctor looked surprised into a furry face that had emerged from the lake.

“Jack?”

The purple otter grinned and crawled to the shore.

“Hi Doc, long time, no see!”

“You’d say. How’s the wife?”

“Fine, fine. Kids and wife and all. But you look like you are not fine, Doctor!”

“Ah, well, mustn’t grumble, Jack, mustn’t grumble.”

The otter frowned, stroked his impressive moustache with his right webbed foot and nodded to the signs in the sand.

“Hmmm… What are you doing, Doc?”

“I’m trying to see something.”

“And? Do you see it?”

“No.”

He had to admit. The more he tried to think about what Clara liked and what he liked, the more desperate he became.

“It’s about a female, huh?”

“It’s about a woman from Earth, yes,” the Doctor corrected. He hadn’t forgotten Martha’s lesson. “How do you know?”

“If the Doctor sits alone on a beach on Zefra 9, he has a problem even his TARDIS can’t help with. The only thing I can think of that is so complicated that even a sentient time-space machine is of no help are _females_.”

The Doctor thought that it was probably no use to get into a discussion about using respectful terms with an otter. He just sighed and nodded, indicating that Jack was right.

“Tell me what’s the trouble, Doc! I would not dare to say that I figured out females, but I’ve been married for most of my adult life and although the wife and I do have our quarrels every now and then, I think we would both agree we are happy with each otter.”

Jack winked and the Doctor groaned at the pun.

“Come on, Doc, just tell old Jack where the problem is.”

The Doctor trusted Jack. They knew each other since he wore a bowtie and tweed. So, he slowly, hesitantly, started to tell him about Clara.

“So, you want to mate with her, but you don’t have an appropriate courtship behavior to rely on because you are from different species,” Jack drew a conclusion.

“That sums it up pretty good,” the Doctor agreed.

“So, what are you scribbling there?”

“I tried to take notes of what she likes and what I like and see if this gets me to develop a kind of… I don’t really know… a ceremony? Something… well… something that makes it special. But it doesn’t work,” he sighed, “it seems, we are too different. There is no common ground.”

“Tell me what you have written there.”

The Doctor started to read out the words he had scribbled in the black sand.

“No, not the words, Doc! Tell me what the words _mean_. Tell me _what it is_ that Clara likes about travelling. Tell me what you _like_ about supernovas.”

Ah.

So, he started to tell Jack about his side, which was really easy. About the beauty of worlds being born but also the strange beauty of worlds disappearing. Reminding him that everything ends, but then again, sometimes things had to end so other things could start. And he told him how small, beautiful things reminded him that life was beautiful and worth living, even when so much of it was cruel and sad. Then, about the power of music, how it carried him away from the ordinary, everyday life of saving planets and losing people.

But Clara’s side… he had no idea why she liked those things… apart from adventuring, which they both loved.

“How do you know she likes these things?”

The Doctor smiled as he remembered Clara riding the motorbike, driving it into the TARDIS. And he smiled even more when he recalled how she taught her students about Jane Austen. She was a brilliant teacher. When she told her students about authors she loved, the people became alive just by the way she talked about them. Even if she never met them before. And her eyes had sparkled when she talked about Jane Austen even before she had met her in person. There seemed to be a magic bond between the two women from Earth that came purely from the way Jane wrote.

“She glows. When she does something she likes, or even when she just talks about it, she glows. I don’t know how to explain it better, it is just like it feels to me. She glows. She radiates excitement, warmth… her eyes sparkle… her cheeks turn slightly pink if she doesn’t wear make-up… she even seems to be a bit taller, then…”

He shrugged. It was impossible to explain the way his impossible girl glowed. He saw it before his eyes, but he missed the words.

“I know,” Jack nodded understandingly, and his eyes became a bit dreamy as he looked over the lake’s surface to a point where the Doctor noticed an adult otter and a baby otter playing.

“Yeah,” the Doctor sighed. “I fear we are just too different, Clara and I.”

“It seems like that to you?” Jack raised his small brows and scratched his chin with his webbed foot.

The Doctor nodded and hung his head.

“I tell you what I am seeing,” Jack grinned, exposing his remarkable teeth, “I’m seeing an idiot who fails to see the obvious. There you are, sitting at the beach, far away from your favorite female. And you scribble in the sand, literally, you _write it down_ that she loves beaches, too! You write that music takes you away from reality and fail to realize that this is what movies do for her! You write that you love stars, and supernovas, and black holes, and that she likes stargazing, and you don’t see that this is a perfect match. You are blind, Doctor. You can see, but still, you are blind.”

The Doctor looked at the words in the sand. Perhaps Jack was right? Maybe they weren’t so different after all, Clara and him?

“It’s your _hearts_ that see the glowing of your favorite female, Doctor, not your eyes or your brain. As soon as you stop trying to make sense of it with your _brain_ and instead start trying to see what she likes, what you both like, with your _hearts_ , you will know what to do and how to do it Doctor.”

The Doctor looked at the grinning otter, who now winked at him.

“Now, I gotta go, Doc. Wife’s waving at me to come over there. Gotta take care of the little one. It makes her happy and so, it makes me happy. See you, Doctor!”

And with that, Jack patted the Doctor’s shoe and slipped elegantly back into the water. After a few strokes, he turned on his purple back, exposing his pink belly, and waved goodbye.

The Doctor waved back. He took a final look at the words in the sand, then, he lay down on his back and closed his eyes.

He was still thinking.

He was still thinking about _Clara_.

But now, he was thinking with both his hearts.


	23. Ready?

The Doctor carefully chose the perfect set of cufflinks to go with his white shirt. He liked the ones that looked like a small TARDIS. He liked all his cufflinks, to be honest, from the plain, simple ones to the funny ones that looked like celery he had bought in the incarnation that also loved cricket. He wished he had a pair that looked like a stick-insect, but he hadn’t. He settled for the ones who looked like the owl on ancient Greek coins. Clara often said he looked like an owl when he was surprised, startled, or scared, so it was somehow fitting. And it would contrast nicely with the necklace he was planning to give her.

He stared long and hard at the vest that matched his dark trousers. Was this a “vest occasion”? He took it from the hanger and put it on, buttoning it up. Yes. Yes, he decided, this was definitely a “vest occasion”. If this wasn’t one, what else was?

He tied his red bowtie. This was about their future, so it had to be the red one. He straightened it, looking in the mirror. He stared at his reflection for some minutes. Then he untied it, carefully folded it, and put it back into its drawer. Clara would have liked seeing him in a bowtie again, but it didn’t feel right. He had grown out of the bowties somehow. In some ways, he still was the same man, but in other ways, he wasn’t.

He rifled through his coats. The black, plain one? Too simplistic. And Clara said she didn’t like it, although he wasn’t sure if she said this in post-regeneration shock. The green velvet? He slipped into it. He hadn’t worn it in ages. He still liked it, but it didn’t really fit. The TARDIS could fix this, but… he would need a frilled shirt with it. He had grown out of frilled shirts, too. They made him look like a TV host in a cheap remake of Jeopardy. Black velvet? Neat, but somehow… too formal? Making him look like someone attending the funeral of his great-great-aunt, hoping to get something out of it although he hadn’t visited her in ages.

He sighed. He got nothing to wear that fit the occasion.

The TARDIS hummed.

“Yes, yes, I’m nervous.”

More humming.

“I know that I don’t need to because she already said she wants to melt her spirit with mine, but it still is something else to ask her formally.”

Another hum.

“Because for _me_ it is important. Maybe humans shrug it off as something natural, but for me, it isn’t. It is something special. It needs to be celebrated. I _want_ to hear her agreeing formally and celebrate it, because it feels _right!_ And I want to offer her the best version of me. Therefore, I want to look the best for her.”

The TARDIS hummed her thinking hum. Then she materialized an additional coat hanger with a new coat.

“Wow. Red velvet?”

A long hum.

He slipped into it. It fit like a glove. He looked at himself in the mirror, slowly turning to his left and to his right. He found he looked rather dashing for a 2,000-year old with it. He straightened his cuffs, noticing a small detail on the coat sleeves.

“A contrasting button?”

The TARDIS hummed.

“I _am_ badass!”

He let his fingers run through his curls trying to make them look as neat as possible.

He took the small box that contained the necklace and let it slide into his pocket. He took it out one more time and inspected the lining of the pocket to make sure there were no holes in it.

The TARDIS hummed annoyed.

“Sorry, old girl, you know this is how I usually lose my keys for you, I didn’t mean to imply you did a sloppy job,” he mumbled.

He put the box in the pocket again and patted it three times. He wasn’t superstitious, but it didn’t hurt to do it.

Then, he grabbed his lapels and inspected himself critically in the mirror one last time.

“Do you think she will… you know… take me?”

The TARDIS hummed.

“Oi, Clara’s not crazy! Ah, well… yes, you may be right, if she’s crazy enough to shatter herself in my timeline, she’s probably crazy enough to melt her spirit with mine.”

He went to the console room and set the coordinates for Clara’s flat, Friday afternoon, the moment when she would be coming home from Coal Hill. He was glad she didn’t insist on “just Wednesdays” anymore. Still, she would not expect him to show up until Saturday morning for breakfast and adventures.

But Friday night was special. Friday night was when humans came home from their last day of work and a whole weekend lay before them. He had difficulties to grasp the concept of weekends, but he imagined it was like having two days on Erkmat 7 after a whole week at Norious. Or something along these lines. They went out, they did things they enjoyed with friends and partners. If he wanted to ask her, Friday night was the perfect human moment for it.

His hand hovered above the lever. It was shaking. He retreated it and put it in his pocket, feeling the small box inside.

“I can’t do this!”

He exclaimed and started running upstairs. He grabbed the railing and stared down to the console room.

“I can’t do this! It’s not right! It’s not fair. Clara should not have to deal with me. Clara should look for a nice human male… man from Earth. Marry him, buy a house, plant a tree, have nice human children. Live a long and happy life. She can’t have that with me! It’s wrong!”

The TARDIS hummed.

“But it _is_ wrong! She is from the wrong species. There’s a reason the Time Lords have the Hybrid myth. Because it is wrong to mix with another species! Because factual immortals like me shouldn’t mix with mortals. It’s not fair, we can’t grow old together. It is wrong _, fundamentally wrong_!”

He had grabbed the railing so tight his knuckles were white. He was shaking. The TARDIS hummed again.

“She won’t even grow old, that’s the point. She will get killed in a stupid adventure. She could live long and happy here on Earth. She is a remarkable teacher, maybe she will become headmaster one day. Or even go into politics. She would make a remarkable prime minister! Just imagine that! Clara Oswald in Downing Street!”

He ran downstairs again, while the TARDIS hummed her opinion on that matter.

“Yeah… you are probably right,” he started jogging around the console, “…But the point still stands. Me asking her… If she stays with me, how long will she have? What is the average time of a common companion surviving if they travel with me?”

The TARDIS ran some calculations, then hummed the result.

“You can’t just count it a long and happy life when it is a few decades _before_ they actually should have _lived_! Or being in a parallel universe married to a metacrisis!”

And opposing hum.

“Yeah, well, that’s of course another point to consider. You are right, it isn’t a question of melting the spirit. My company alone is harmful.”

He crawled under the console, hugged his knees, and rested his head on his arms.

“I… I think it is best for both of us to let her go, to say goodbye while she is still alive and well. I…” he reached into his pocket, stroking the small box inside, “It’s a good thing I already have a goodbye present for her.”

The TARDIS hummed.

“Yes, perhaps. I’m rather sure she doesn’t want to say goodbye. But it is the only responsible thing to do. To keep her safe. I have a duty of care, you know? I can’t be so selfish and shorten her lifespan deliberately just because I love her.”

The TARDIS hummed a long and thoughtful hum.

“Yes… yes, you are right. It is her decision. And she might not want to be safe… She probably would have left me for good a long time ago if she wanted to… But still. Sexy… when something happens to her… when she… I don’t know how I will survive when something happens to her after we melted our minds the first time. ”

The TARDIS hummed questioningly. He sighed.

“Yes… yes… you are right. Our bond is already too deep and strong… it will hurt so bad I will go insane, no matter if we go into this or not…”

Another hum. He smiled a sad smile.

“Yes, yes, you are. The strays come and go, but you will always be here for me. Oh, old girl, sometimes I wish things wouldn’t be this complicated. The ability to fall in love is a terrible curse for a Time Lord.”

A long, compassionate hum.

“Of course, I’m happy when she is with me, now.”

Another hum.

“Yes, yes, you are probably right. The longer I think about it, the more anxious and insecure I become and the shorter the time left together with Clara.”

He slowly got up and went back to the control panel, meticulously checking the coordinates again, so he wouldn’t land too early and meet himself, or too late when she already met a handsome, young man or beautiful, smart woman from Earth who was more attractive than an old idiot in a box with a screwdriver.

He let his hand hover above the lever again.

“What would I be without you, Sexy?” He murmured tenderly.

The TARDIS hummed.

“Right. Time to make some more memories. Let’s just hope it will be good ones.”

He said, grabbing the lever, pulling it down, while the TARDIS hummed affirmative.


	24. Waiting

The TARDIS materialized in Clara‘s flat and the Doctor stepped out.

No Clara.

Well, he was probably a bit early.

He took a look at his pocket watch. It was nearly similar to his old one which he traded in shortly after regeneration. He found this one on a flea market on Clohabraxxittina. He was rather sure that although he had negotiated with the flea who sold it, he still had paid a much higher price than it was worth. But Clara had loved his old watch and if Clara would love this one, too, no price was too high.

Ten minutes to six. Yes, a bit too early. Just ten minutes, but he had wanted to make sure that he was there before she came back from Coal Hill.

He meandered to her bedroom to check his appearance one more time in her three mirrors. He had to admit that it was somehow practical being able to check all angles, especially to see if his hair was neat enough. He noticed that the red velvet was a perfect contrast to his grey curls.

It was okay. For an over 2,000-year-old Time Lord he was looking _okay_. Still too old for her, but this wasn’t in the looks, this was in the age. Although, in some regards, she was much more experienced. Especially when it came to… things… relationship things and other human things… Sometimes he felt like what Martha had explained as “a teenager”, kind of the larval stage for humans.

He took a step back, grabbed his lapels and rectified his posture to his full height. Yes. Yes. A fully grown Time Lord with over 2,000 years of experience in human and universal history under his belt. He looked dashing, he had thought of something special for his small, beautiful human and there was no way she could resist the invitation.

He gave his reflection an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Then, he went back to the living room to wait for her.

He checked the watch again. Six. Any minute now she would come through the door, surprised to find him in her flat but hopefully smiling her kind smile at him. The smile that told him he was okay. That he was not wrong or flawed or malfunctioning. Maybe a bit alien, clumsy and not good with expressing his feelings, but overall _okay_.

He contemplated if he should sit on the sofa when she came in or if he should wait for her, standing upright. He noticed that his hands had nothing to occupy themselves with when he was standing, and neither having his hands in his pockets nor crossing his arms felt fitting for the occasion. So, perhaps sitting down and pretending he were reading a magazine was better?

He let himself slump on the sofa and grabbed one of her magazines.

It was one of those stupid magazines which mainly consisted of gossip about celebrities and movie recommendations. He flipped the pages until he reached the part about fashion. It was the only part that made sense to him. He liked fine clothes in this incarnation. He spent some time looking at the dresses, imagining how Clara would look in them. She would look fabulous in all of them, of course. Maybe in one of their next adventures they should just kidnap the designer and transfer them to the future so they could experiment with new fabrics? He could imagine they would do wonders if they got their hand on Hanghorian silk. He liked that thought. He filed that idea away for later.

He checked the watch again. Six minutes past six. Well, maybe talking to a colleague, forgetting the time.

He closed the magazine, let his head rest against the backrest and stared to the ceiling. The ceiling could use a new coat of paint. There were cracks which reminded him he didn’t like cracks at all. First, they looked like any old crack and before you knew it, you were drawn into the wrong dimension, losing everyone you loved. Maybe he should fix it?

He got up and went to his TARDIS to get a ladder, a bucket of white paint and a brush.

To his surprise he couldn’t find any of these items, in none of the rooms.

His TARDIS informed him that he would get himself into trouble if Clara would find him painting her ceiling without her permission. He didn’t understand why, because he thought that everybody liked a freshly painted ceiling but accepted that the TARDIS was probably right. Clara was often cross with him and he didn’t understand why, and while she looked beautiful when she was cross, he didn’t want to risk that tonight.

Twenty minutes past six.

Late.

She should have been home by now.

Well, maybe she did the groceries. Yes, yes, probably that. Maybe he should just jump in the TARDIS and skip half an hour forward. But he didn’t want to do that. He wanted to be here when she came home. He had thought about the scene over and over again in his head and he needed to do it _exactly_ like that, otherwise he would just babble nonsense and become distracted.

He went into the kitchen. He looked at the spice shelf. This was _wrong_. The spices were arranged _wrong_. How could she even cook when all the spices were in the wrong order? How did she find what she needed? He sorted them until they were neatly aligned in alphabetical order, from basil to poppy seeds.

Better.

He opened the fridge. It was well stocked. He took a slice of cheddar and munched it. Not bad. Not as good as the one from New Caledonia 2, but not bad. Wait. There was _nothing_ missing in this fridge. All his favorite snacks were present. So were Clara’s. She didn’t do the groceries!

He looked at the watch: half past six.

Very late.

He started to worry.

He looked out of the window. The motorbike was gone. Of course, she usually went to school with her motorbike. What if… He shuddered. He knew the London traffic. Those humans behaved like idiots, especially the ones driving cars and trucks.

And a small human on a motorbike… Maybe a truck turning left… Overlooking the biker…

He started to pace around the flat.

Five minutes past half past six.

Humans were so breakable. And Clara was especially breakable. Well, not more than other humans. But more precious. No, not more precious than other human beings, he corrected himself immediately. Every human being was precious. They were all precious to someone. But Clara was more precious to _him_.

And she was reckless.

Hopefully, she wore her helmet. Yes, she always wore her helmet. She was a control freak. She would never ride the motorbike without her helmet.

He went to the wardrobe just to make sure. Yes. The helmet was gone.

Seven minutes past half past six.

What if she was badly injured and they brought her to hospital. Which hospital would they bring her to? Would they let him see her? What should he say? That he was her boyfriend? Were boyfriends allowed to see their girlfriends?

Eight minutes past half past six.

Or should he lie and say he was her father? That sounded more plausible, given his appearance. But what if her real dad was already there? They wouldn’t let him see her then. And what if he said he was her boyfriend and her father confronted him about it? What should he say? How should he explain it?

Nine minutes past half past six.

Would her dad recognize him? Not very plausible. He had looked totally different when they met each other. And he had been naked.

He blushed, embarrassed thinking about his goofy past incarnation.

He had paced the flat from entrance to living room to kitchen and back again and looked out of the window for about fifty times now. Forty-nine times to be exact. He was a Time Lord after all.

Eighteen minutes to seven.

His hands were sweaty, his hearts were clenching, and his stomach felt as if he had eaten something bad. It wasn’t the cheddar. Or the cricket sandwiches he had on Clohabraxxittina. He was worried. For the first time he understood the human term “worried sick” Clara used when he had done something she deemed dangerous.

Sixteen minutes to seven.

His eyes were now glued to the ancient clock in his hands, following the second hand with his eyes.

What if she… was so badly wounded that she wouldn’t wake up anymore… what if she was… the thought was too terrible to think it through.

Quarter to seven.

He couldn’t remember if he had ever felt so lost and alone in his life. For sure never in this incarnation. There he was, a Time Lord, all of time and all of space at his command, yet, he was ultimately lost without this small, roundish, human woman by his side. Helpless and alone.

Fourteen minutes to seven.

He had lost his faith early in his childhood. But now he folded his hands and prayed. He didn’t know to whom he was praying, to the ancient gods of Gallifrey, to his ancestors, to all the gods all the species he had ever rescued believed in, it didn’t matter. But he prayed, prayed that Clara was alright. That she was save.

That she would come home to him, unharmed, unhurt, and alive.


	25. The Question

A key clicked in the lock.

Clara entered in her leather jacket, helmet under her arm, stopping halfway through the door, staring at him confused.

“Hey! What are _you_ doing here?”

She smiled at him and it was probably the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

“Clara!”

It took him exactly four leaps to be at the door and wrap her in his arms. Tight. He held her as close and tight as possible without crushing her and with no intention to let her go anytime, soon.

„Whoa, Doctor, what is wrong?”

Clara mumbled nearly unintelligible, as the Doctor pressed her close to his chest.

“Nothing.”

He uttered, still refusing to release her from his vice-like hug.

“Well, I appreciate the hug, but it is a bit… odd… for you. Are you sure you are okay? Has something happened? I mean, you can come to me whenever you like, you know that, but I hadn’t expected you to show up until tomorrow morning to decide where we take our Saturday morning breakfast. And you seem… disturbed.”

“I’m just glad you are alright.”

“Well, yes, yes, I am… why shouldn’t I be alright?”

She tried to release herself from his grip, at least enough to look up to meet his eyes. He reluctantly left her a bit of space so she could.

“I… was… just… worried…” He mumbled, hesitantly.

“Why were you worried?” She frowned.

He realized how ridiculous it would sound that he was worried for her coming less than an hour later than he _expected_ her – without her _knowing_ that he waited for her at all. He cleared his throat and tried to come up with an explanation that sounded less ridiculous, but his mind was blank. Like always when it came to the complicated topic of feelings, he felt insecure and dumb.

He stared helplessly into her eyes.

She must have felt his desperation and loss for words because she smiled and said with a soft voice as if she spoke to an anxious child:

“Hey… It’s okay, Doctor. Don’t worry. It’s okay, I’m here. How about… you let me go so I can remove my shoes and we just sit for a bit on the sofa. Maybe have a snack, and then you can tell me what worries you?”

He nodded. His arms still refused to let her go. He had to tell them consciously to open, that she wouldn’t disappear just because he couldn’t feel her any longer.

He released her and took a step back.

Clara untied her shoes and placed them in the wardrobe. Then, she eyed him closer.

“Wow, you are dressed to the nines. Do you have plans for tonight?”

He cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure.

“Yes… yes, actually, I had,” he uttered, eying his toes because this whole evening was going differently as planned and he tried to get himself back on track. He needed to concentrate on something else than her sparkling brown eyes. His toes were perfect to concentrate on until he had found a way to continue this… whatever it was…

“You look rather dashing, Doctor. New coat?”

Clara asked, gently stroking over his arms, feeling the velvet, then letting her hands crawl to his shoulders, using them as support to raise on her tiptoes and peck a small kiss on his lips. Of course, this wasn’t helping with keeping his thoughts together.

“Yes… ah… yes… the TARDIS made it… you like?” He stammered.

“It’s beautiful, Doctor. The color suits you. It lets your eyes shine.”

“It… it does?” He tried to file away this information, finding no appropriate storage place for it.

Clara smiled, bit her lip, and nodded. Sometimes he wondered if she said those things deliberately because she knew he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Come on, tell me what you are up to,” she now said, grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the sofa. She sat him down, placing herself beside him, looking at him as if she expected him to say something.

Right. He wanted to, he just needed to start somewhere.

He had practiced this over and over again. But it was so different. But not _that_ different. He just needed a bit of courage. He could do it. He knew he could!

He took her hands in his. That was a good start. Feeling her hands grounded him and gave his hands something to do. Holding them.

“Clara I… we… it’s… I… when we…” it hadn’t seemed _that_ difficult when he practiced it. But then, her beautiful brown eyes hadn’t distracted him. And the smile. The amused smile in the corner of her mouth. And those dimples!

“Hey, it’s okay, Doctor, whatever it is. You can talk to me about it. Take your time.”

She started to rub small circles in the palms of his hands. It was a nice feeling. It calmed him down.

“Is it about ‘things’ Doctor? Sex? Bonding? Melting our spirits?”

He nodded and gulped. She could read him like an open book.

“Are you still afraid of it? Of the hybrid? Or that you could damage me?”

He shook his head. But now that she mentioned it, he had a way to start this.

“No, no, no, I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid _anymore_. It is… fantastic… you,” he played with her unbelievable small soft fingers, “you take away my fears, Clara Oswald. I have no idea how you do it, but you do!”

Her smile broadened and there was this wonderful twinkling in her eyes.

“No, Clara, I’m not afraid of melting our spirits anymore. But… I want it to be something special. As you said: There is no second time for the first time. So… I want to… celebrate it… make it special…”

He reached to his pocket and pulled out the small box. He had wanted to give her the necklace on Zefra 9, at the waterfalls, but as everything was so different, he just improvised.

“Clara, when we melt our spirits, we become a part of the other and this is something very special. I don’t know how it… will work for us because you are human, but… no matter what, it will mean that we are connected in a special way and I wanted to give you something to symbolize this.”

He placed the box in her hands. She slowly opened it. He held his breath.

“Oh… a necklace… with a raven… it is beautiful, Doctor. Does it… mean something?”

Of course, she didn’t know the old legends of Gallifrey. It meant so much. At least, it meant much to him. There was so much he wanted to tell her. But it was so difficult to explain.

“It… yes… it is an old legend. From my people.”

“From the Time Lords?” She seemed surprised.

“No, no, not the Time Lords… it is… it is a legend from the North of Gallifrey. A myth. A saga. One of our oldest legends. It… it was never written down. It is just passed on by the storytellers. And only the storytellers are allowed to pass it on. It has to be told exactly as all generations of storytellers told it. Do you want to hear it?”

Her eyes had inflated. He wasn’t sure if he had done something wrong, so he frowned. He just hoped she wouldn’t cry. He still was insecure about how to react to that.

“This raven – it is a part of your… heritage? Of where you come from?”

“Yes, yes, it is. Is that a problem?”

It nearly seemed like it. He saw tears glistering in her eyes.

“No, no, not a problem at all. On the contrary. That’s… beautiful. That’s very personal. I already appreciate that gesture, Doctor. And: yes, yes, of course I want to hear it! If you say only _storytellers_ are allowed to pass it on… does that mean… that you are a _storyteller_? That you were a storyteller on your home planet?”

He blushed.

“Well, half a storyteller,” sad memories tried to emerge from deep down in his mind, but he willed them away. “My childhood was perhaps not like you imagine it. But there was a time… a happy time… when I lived in the countryside and there was a very wise woman. _She_ was a storyteller. And she told this legend and many others over and over again. And… I think she liked me, because, sometimes, when the whole clan sat around the campfire, she would let me tell a part of her stories, which is… a tremendously great honor, you know?”

Now his eyes became wet, thinking about his childhood. Clara brushed a tear from her own eyes, then brushing one from his.

“That sounds beautiful, Doctor,” she whispered.

“Should I tell it now? Because… well, it is a story for a campfire… and… I have planned a whole trip to Zefra 9 for us… including a campfire and a few other things I think you will like… I want to make it… special, you know?”

“You have planned a whole weekend to celebrate our bonding?”

He nodded.

“Awwww. That’s so sweet, Doctor.”

She wrapped him in her arms and kissed him.

Perhaps it went better than he had expected, even if it started out wrong. This kiss completely restored his confidence. He wanted to melt their spirits, he wanted to share everything he was, everything he had ever been and every possibility he might become with her.

And it should be a beautiful experience. Not only the melting of spirits, but everything that led to it and every single second after.

He let go of her and got up.

“Do you want to come with me, Clara Oswald? All of time? All of space?”

He was offering her his hand, the way nearly all of his incarnations had done when inviting someone to travel with them. But this was different. Today, he was not asking a new companion to come on board. Today, he was asking the woman he loved to become one with him.

“And all of me?”


	26. The Doctor Dances

Zefra 9 was one of the Doctor’s favorite planets. Not many were a match to it. A few larger cities but mainly countryside with just a few dwellings. Miles and miles of untouched, beautiful landscape with rivers and lakes, small hills and steep mountains. If you didn’t want to meet anyone, there were plenty of lovely places to be alone.

For this Friday evening he had, however, chosen a more crowded place. “Zodaniak Falls” was a restaurant with a large garden, looking out to Mount Zerik with the trademark waterfalls cascading into Lake Zodaniak. He had made a reservation for the table with the best view.

The TARDIS had provided Clara with the most elegant dress he had ever seen. Hanghorian silk, of course. At first sight, it looked plain black. But when she moved, it glistened in all colors of the rainbow. When she first appeared in it, he had been mesmerized by the play of colors, marveling how it underlined the beauty of _his_ Clara. She had to remind him that he had made other plans for the weekend than just staring at her.

Now, she had taken his arm. The waiter guided them to their table, and he could see quite some jealous looks from the other guests. He immediately walked a bit straighter and felt like he grew several inches. He probably never felt prouder that he won the heart of the most beautiful lady in the universe.

The dinner was excellent, and he already thought about the next step of his plan, when suddenly a band started playing. This surprised him. Jack hadn’t told him that there was live music that night. He found it disturbing and annoying because it crossed his plans, until he looked at Clara.

Her eyes were twinkling like two stars, and she was smiling all over her face.

“Awww, Doctor! I didn’t expect to have _music_ tonight! And _dancing_! Especially as you never grow tired of telling me how much you _hate_ dancing!”

This was true. He hated dancing. None of his incarnations had been particularly good at it, but this body was extremely untalented for it. It seemed the arms were too long, and the legs were too gawky to do what was expected of them, especially doing it in the right sequence. He could manage everything that had a strict, countable order, like a quadrille or line dancing but he failed miserably at anything that required moving correctly with a partner, may it be waltzing or foxtrot, not to mention things that required even more of his body, like samba or lambada.

Yet, his little human loved dancing. Usually he just remained seated at the table and watched her dancing with other humans or aliens. Always slightly jealous, but always marveling how natural and effortless her moves looked and how they were exactly in sync with the music.

Tonight, however, was special. He couldn’t stand the thought of watching her dancing with someone else. He just needed to be brave. He reached across the table and put his hand over hers.

“I said I wanted to do something special, and I know how much you _love_ dancing.”

It was not the full truth, but he considered it an acceptable lie.

“So, you really will dance with me?”

Clara nearly squealed, grabbed his hand tight, jumped to her feet, and pulled him up. He had no other option than following her to the dance floor.

“I don’t know the song, but a disco fox should match just fine. We have tried this one before, remember? It’s not complicated, everybody can dance a disco fox.”

Clara stated, smiling her brightest smile. If she said so… He took a deep breath and took her hands.

He relied on her doing the guiding thing, counted the steps and generally, tried to get his feet somewhere they found a space and didn’t meet her toes. It worked well, at least most of the time. He could tell from Clara’s amused smile and sometimes quick movements that he didn’t manage it quite in the right sequence and missed the intentions of the dance. Luckily, the song ended before he could do any serious damage to her toes or the other couples.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief and tried to get back to the table. Clara held him back. He could have guessed she wouldn’t let him get away so easily.

The band started playing a song he recognized. The crowd cheered. It was the “Zodaniak Waltz”, something like the anthem of the area, a sad song about a man who had lost his love and contemplated to drown himself in the lake. It always made him sentimental.

Clara pulled him close.

“That’s a slow waltz. Close your eyes.”

She whispered in his ear.

“What? It is hard enough to miss your feet when my eyes are open.”

“Trust me, Doctor, close your eyes.”

As always, he obeyed her orders. He had no idea why she wanted him to see nothing, though.

“Try not to think about anything. Just listen to the music. And feel my body and my movements. Don’t think, just try not to lose contact to my body. And keep your eyes shut.”

He did as he was told.

He felt her right leg moving forward and took a step back with his left one. He felt her hip and her shoulders pushing him to the right, he turned in this direction.

_It matched!_

It really matched the music if he listened closely.

He felt her left leg disappearing and used the space to fit his right leg where it had been.

_It matched again._

They continued dancing that way, he felt what she did and followed along. If he listened closely, it was almost like he could predict what would happen next.

The longer the song lasted, the more confident he became. Clara didn’t need to push and pull so hard anymore because often his predictions of what she would do were correct. He didn’t step on her toes one single time.

Suddenly, the song ended.

He opened his eyes and stared at her, confused. Clara smiled at him and pecked a kiss on his lips.

“See, you _can_ dance, Doctor!”

“How did you know it would work if I closed my eyes?”

He couldn’t make sense of it. If one sense was _missing_ , it wasn’t logical that something would work _better_.

“It was just an idea,” she shrugged.

“One that seems to work.”

The band started playing another slow song and he thought he should try if it had just worked with “Zodaniak Waltz”, or if other songs were the same.

Clara seemed a bit surprised when he wrapped his arms around her, closed his eyes and started dancing without her needing to urge him to.

It worked with this song, too.

He just had to listen to the music and step somewhere where Clara wasn’t. Forward, back, forward, turn slightly, it worked. As long as he did what the music told him and matched it with what Clara did, there were no accidents.

“How did you know it would work?” He asked again, after the song ended.

She smiled.

“When we bond, Doctor…”

He still blushed whenever she mentioned the topic.

“…you are not aware of your body. Still, your body knows what to do. So, while dancing isn’t the same, I thought it was worth a try. If you don’t see what you are doing, your body relies on hearing and feeling the rhythm without being distracted by your vision.”

“I see,” he said, contemplating what she just said, then, suddenly, smirking.

“You are wrong, though!”

Clara frowned. He loved seeing her beautiful tiny eyebrows wrinkling, which was part of the fun of teasing her. His little teacher didn’t like to be wrong. She hated it and it was an adorable sight to see.

His smirk broadened into what she fondly called his “werewolf grin”.

“I’m not feeling the rhythm, I’m feeling you, Clara Oswald.”

She stared at him surprised as he pulled her closer, embarking into a new experiment of what he could do with their bodies for the next song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely unrelated to this story, but as you are already here... the amazing artist Alia E. Torrie has made my story ["Coffee and Angels"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26300116/chapters/64035124) into a breathtaking [audioplay on youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25nzvWJ7X2A). Give it a listen, I am still totally in awe of what she did with it!


	27. Changing Plans

The Doctor had planned eating something with Clara at the “Zodaniak Falls”, and then, heading out to the other side of the lake where he had rented one of the typical tree houses of Zefra 9.

The band had crossed his plans. Clara loved dancing and so, they danced, drank some glasses of Zefraean blue wine, and danced some more.

Clara looked happy and this made him happy.

Back at the table, she yawned. It was such an endearing sight. He thought that perhaps only baby Borodoughs looked cuter when they yawned. No, he decided, Clara looked cuter!

“Tired, little human?”

He smiled. Clara nodded.

“Oh, yes. It has been quite a day at Coal Hill and now, with the good dinner and the dancing… I hope the next step of your plan includes a room with a nice, comfy bed.”

He was taken aback. To be honest, his plan included a ride on a cloudcycle to the other side of the lake, a campfire with marshmallows and stories – well, at least one particular story – and a night at the tree house where they might or might not melt their spirits, depending on what Clara wanted.

But of course, Clara was tired after teaching small pudding brains all day. What was he thinking? Well, he had to admit that as a Time Lord, he had difficulties to imagine how time worked for linear beings. Honestly, the concept of “day” and “night” as something that interchanged in a certain rhythm was hard to grasp. He also often miscalculated how frequently and how long his human needed sleep phases. Time coordinates were much easier to calculate and understand.

He felt how he blushed. She shouldn’t find out he was a terrible planner, so he jumped up and spun around.

“You will see, and you will like it!”

He promised, although he had no idea what he would do to fix his mistake. But he liked the sparkling his words put into her eyes.

“I’ll be right back.”

He went to the bar where Jack worked as a bartender. Jack didn’t really need to work, he and his wife found enough food in the wilderness of Zefra 9, but he loved being among people and so, he helped out at the “Zodaniak Falls” every now and then. He was a talented barkeeper and made the best cocktails on Zefra 9, at least according to himself.

“Hi Doc! That’s your female, huh?”

Jack immediately asked, nodding into Clara’s direction.

“Yes,” the Doctor answered, chuffed, “that’s _my_ Clara!”

“Not bad for someone without fur and moustache, I suppose. Not my type, though.”

Jack rubbed his own moustache thoughtfully. The Doctor felt anger welling up, but then had to admit that he found women with fur, moustache, and webbed feet not particularly attractive, and that this was probably a good thing, because he and Jack would never start a cockfight over the same woman. The Doctor quickly changed topic.

“I... might have a small problem... Clara is tired and the place I planned to go to is on the other side of the lake. I need a place nearer to this place,... one of those rooms with a bed in it.”

“A place to spent the night with her, huh?”

Jack grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. It was meant to look suggestive but, because he was an otter, it just looked cute. The Doctor nodded.

“Ah, well, you came to the right place, Doc. This restaurant is also a hotel, and they have so called 'honeymoon suites' in it. Humanoids often want to mate at the waterfalls. I think it's odd because waterfalls are loud and you can't really swim undisturbed in their vicinity, but obviously, humanoid species think of it as romantic. Well, not mine to judge... just saying that it wouldn't be my preferred place to make new otters.”

“They have rooms for... human sex in this hotel?”

The Doctor was really surprised. His favorite species never stopped to amaze him. He thought that this concept was odd, but maybe, if it was a human thing to do such things this way, his Clara would be happy if he honored their traditions.

“Sure, Doc. And I'm sure there are still some free suites. It doesn't seem to be the main rutting season for humans. Shall I make a reservation for you?” Jack wiggled his eyebrows again.

“That would be awesome.”

“You go back to your human female, Doctor. Let good, old Daddy Jack take care of everything, huh?”

The Doctor nodded, thankfully, and turned to go back to Clara.

“Wait a minute, Doctor!” Jack flung his cocktail shaker high in the air, took two glasses, caught the shaker again and poured a liquid into them. “ _Zodaniak Sunset_ , on the house, so you have an excuse for your female why you left her sitting alone for so long.”

Jack really thought about everything! He took the glasses and brought them back to the table. Clara had placed an elbow on the table and leaned her cheek into her hand. Her eyes were closed. She looked so beautiful, relaxed, and, somehow... saturated? Satisfied? Happy? Yes, happy. She looked happy. That was good. He felt happy when she was happy.

The Doctor put the glasses down and let one finger run over her cheek. Clara opened her eyes and looked at him, surprised.

“Oh, hello Doctor. Sorry, I think I accidentally fell asleep.”

“You looked happy,” he remarked, smiling.

“Because I am, Doctor, I'm really impressed how much thought you have put into this evening. And now, even cocktails! I love to taste new cocktails!”

She smiled and took her glass. He had no idea she liked trying new cocktails and filed the information carefully away for further use. He raised his glass.

“Here's to you, Clara Oswald. May you always be as happy as you look right now!”

“Same to you, Doctor. You look happy and you even smile, that's rare!”

Clara smiled even brighter, and they clinked their glasses.

“Because I _am_ happy, Clara. I think right now, I'm probably the happiest being in this universe.”

“Awww!”

Clara bowed over the table to peck a small kiss on his mouth. It surprised him, but he didn't complain. He kissed her back.

Someone cleared his throat next to them.

Jack.

“I don't want to interrupt your mating ceremony, but here's the key to the Presidential Suite.”

“You booked the presidential suite for us, Doctor?”

Clara's eyes twinkled like two stars. The Doctor didn't even know the “Zodaniak Falls” had a presidential suite.

“Apparently I have,” he remarked, a bit helpless.

“Of course, he has,” Jack lied on his behalf, “the Doctor _always_ wants the absolute best for _his_ Clara!”

The Doctor blushed. He thought of a way out of this embarrassing conversation.

“Clara, meet Jack, a good friend of mine, and a hell of a good barkeeper. He's responsible for this...” he pointed to the cocktails.

“They are called ' _Zodaniak Sunset_ ' and I am called Jack from the Low Lake, Peterson and Elaineson,”

“Delighted to meet you, Mister... Low Lake?”

“Jack, just Jack. Zefraean names are a bit clumsy to use otherwise. But I leave you two honeymooners alone now. Happy mating, or whatever the correct wish is in your culture!”

And with that, he bowed and left their table.

„What do you say, Doctor, shall we take a look at the presidential suite now?“

Clara yawned and held out her hand, which the Doctor gladly took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zefraean names are indeed a bit clumsy. The administration thought that an inhabitant is sufficiently distinguishable by having a first name, a place of birth and a gender attached to the first name of his parents. Yes, it is a bureaucratic nightmare and makes all sorts of things really, really clumsy in administration, but every attempt to reform the naming system is blocked by people claiming “tradition” and that “we always done it that way”.
> 
> That Jack is the son of Peter and Elaine is... pure coincidence. And trust me, it spared you a really bad Emerson, Lake and Palmer pun that way!


	28. Traditionally Human

The presidential suite of the “Zodaniak Falls” really lived up to its name. It had two spacious rooms, a large bathroom with a bathtub big enough for four people, and a roof terrace.

“Oh my god, Doctor, it is gorgeous!”

Clara exclaimed pacing through the suite, giggling like an excited teenager. The Doctor just stood there, enjoying how much she enjoyed it. It warmed both his hearts and he felt as if her happiness made not only this self, but all his past incarnations happy.

“You don't think it's a bit posh?” One of his past selves asked.

“Nothing wrong with a bit posh! You are, too, at times.”

Clara giggled, raised to her toes and kissed him before he could start arguing. Maybe this was for the best because he wasn't sure he could have said something fitting to this remark without ruining the evening.

“Come on, let's enjoy the view!”

Clara took his hand and pulled him outside, to the terrace. He didn't complain.

The view was indeed spectacular. The lake lay far beneath them, the full moon was reflected by its surface. Mount Zerik towered over the lake, majestically. Quite some mountain torrents formed small waterfalls, unified to form bigger ones, just to unify again, and clash to the lake in one final, vast waterfall.

For some minutes they just stood side by side, taking in the scenery.

“It's beautiful!” Clara uttered.

“It is. But not as beautiful as you,” he immediately replied, and congratulated the part of his brain responsible for speeches for, just this once, being willing to play along.

Clara looked up to him and smiled, her eyes twinkling.

“You really became good at the compliment thing, lately, Doctor.”

He smiled proudly, then bowed down to kiss her. She put her small, strong arms around his middle and he marveled like ever so often how good it felt to be wrapped into Clara. She was so much smaller than him, but it felt like she surrounded him completely.

It was a lingering kiss, sometimes tender, sometimes passionate, sometimes intense, sometimes more playful. Over time they had developed a technique to leave her time to breathe without really separating.

After a while, she retreated and her beautiful brown eyes searched his.

“Bring me to bed,” she whispered.

He shortly scanned the sentence for a double meaning, then decided to give it a try. He grabbed her shoulders with one arm and reached down to grab her legs. He lifted her up.

“Like this?”

“Exactly like this,” she giggled, and rested her head against his shoulder.

He went inside, and lowered her carefully on the double bed.

“You had planned this evening differently,” Clara stated, pulling him close so he tumbled forward and had to be careful not to squash her. He used a Venusian Aikido move to catch his fall and rest safely beside her.

“How do you know?”

He thought he had been stealthy enough for her not to notice it. Of course he had been wrong. Humans were unbelievable perceptive. At least Clara was.

“You always forget that I don't just know this face but all your other faces, too. I might not recall anything my echos did, but I have a general knowledge of, well, let's say, the _essence_ of you. And I sense if something is going according to your plan – if you had any – or if you are just... you know... winging it,” she gave a chuckle he found adorable. She was happy and proud of herself she caught him.

“Okay, you got me. I planned it differently. But you like how it went, right?”

“Very.”

She rested her hand on his neck, gently stroking exactly the right spot with her fingertips. He always felt like he melted into her fingertips when she did this.

“But I wonder what you had planned if spending the night in the presidential suite with a view to the waterfalls is just plan B.”

He was suddenly embarrassed because his original plan now sounded dumb to him. Not very human compatible, to say the least.

“Uh, forget it. Let's just say this is plan A, okay?”

“No, I want to know it.”

“What if... it was a dumb plan?”

She smiled at him and pecked a small kiss on his nose.

“You know that I love your dumb plans best, do you? They always lead to our most exciting adventures!”

Oh, well, if she said so...

“Well... I rented a cloudcycle and thought we could make a trip to the other side of the lake... There is a beautiful hidden bay... you _do_ like bays, right? I mean, you like beaches and a bay is basically a beach, only that it is a river that meets the lake, and so, there is something like a beach, and you like beaches, so I thought...”

“I can assure you I like bays as much as beaches, Doctor. Don't worry,” Clara giggled, “so far it sounds like an awesome plan, although I have no idea what a cloudcycle is.”

He blushed and was excited she liked his plan so far.

“Oh, I'm absolutely sure you will love a cloudcycle, because I know you like motorcycles and a cloudcycle is like a motorcycle, only _better_! Because, like...” 

He jumped from the bed and spun around.

“With a motorcycle you always have to have a grip on the handle and you have to take care of the throttle and the brakes and stuff...”

He moved and gesticulated as if he was driving his motorcycle.

“But, with a cloudcycle, with a cloudcycle, Clara... you just sit on it and you navigate it with your thoughts! You think a certain speed and you think how to take the curve and, whooosh...”

He paced and spun around.

“There we go. Up the hill, down the hill, as fast as we like and exactly how we like it!”

“That sounds exciting, Doctor.”

He looked to the bed and Clara's eyes were inflated. Inflated in a good way. The way they inflated when she was excited, not the way they inflated when she was sad. The smile confirmed his analysis. She liked his idea!

“Oh yes, yes, it is,” he really liked cloudcycling. It was a bit sad that they wouldn't do that now, but it didn't matter as long as Clara was happy.

“And then? What would we do once we reached the bay?”

“Oh, I would have made a campfire, first. You _do_ like campfires, right? I'm absolutely sure you like campfires! We had a lot of campfires on our adventures! You always seemed to be fond of them.”

He cautiously looked to Clara, just to make sure, and saw her nod. Good. He was relieved he recalled that correctly.

“And, well, we could roast marshmallows because I know you like marshmallows, although they always remind me of the Adipose and I always have to make sure they aren't Adipose...”

“That's why you usually eat the whole bag?”

“Yes. It's a necessary precaution! Imagine if they really are Adipose, and start to take over...”

“...or maybe you just have a sweet tooth, Doctor?”

He blushed, and quickly changed topic.

“And then, there is a traditional tree house. You sure would like it. Well, I'm about 76.8 % sure you would like it. It's very comfy, and has a beautiful view, and it sways with the wind, but in a good way, you know, just like... when you are on a ship, but the sea is calm. Just swaying gently in the breeze. Oh, you don't get seasick, do you? Because... if you get easily seasick, maybe it wasn't such a good idea. Oh, I haven't thought of that, I'm sorry...”

“Don't worry, Doctor, I don't get seasick before it is a force ten wind or worse. Now, stop pacing around like a tiger in a cage, come here.”

Clara patted beside her on the bed. He shrugged out of his coat, placed it on the valet, and landed with another Venusian Aikido move beside _his_ Clara on the bed. She pulled him close with something that wasn't an Venusian Aikido move, but just as effective. Maybe Earth Taekwondo? He wasn't sure. He just realized he found himself trapped beneath her. He didn't complain, especially as it was accompanied by a kiss.

“It sounds wonderful, Doctor! I really like your plan. Let's do that tomorrow.”

He was glad she liked it. And she was right, they could still do that tomorrow. Tonight, however they would perhaps melt their spirits here if this was more traditionally human.

“There is nothing 'traditionally human' about melting our spirits on Zefra 9, Doctor.”

Clara giggled. Even after all this time he _still_ forgot that she could hear his thoughts when they were this close.

“Well, but apparently it is something humans do, according to Jack. They rent a suite with a view to the waterfalls to, you know, do... things.”

“Doctor, Jack is an _otter_. Otters don't know everything about humans.”

That... sounded somehow plausible.

“So...”

He was lost for words, and the part of his brain responsible for speeches seemed to enjoy leaving him hanging that way.

“Do you... do you think it is better... I don't know. What do _you_ want, Clara Oswald? You are a human after all.”

“I think... I think you planned such an awesome, romantic trip for melting our spirits that I think we will do it exactly like you imagined it. It has been such a wonderful evening, but honestly, it has been quite a day, and I'm really tired,” she suddenly sounded insecure, “but, of course, I don't want to disappoint you, Doctor.”

Disappoint him? He couldn't think of anything Clara could do that would disappoint him.

“I... I don't think you are even physically able to disappoint me, Clara Oswald...”

Clara smirked.

“I know I should be offended by this remark, but from you it just sounds... cute. So, you won't be disappointed if I suggest that we try the bathtub and just go to sleep afterwards?”

“How could that even disappoint me? Bathtubs are cool. They are basically mini lakes that you can heat up to the preferred temperature. And add bubble bath! I love bubble bath! Let's add so much bubble bath we can form a castle with it! And dig holes!”

He couldn't explain it, but tonight he felt younger. Not as if nearly 2,000 years burdened him and made him to a broken, crooked, callous, anxious, neurotic version of the Doctor. He felt not a day older than 150. Well, maybe 200. 197, to be exact.

He jumped from the bed and stretched out his hand to Clara, who gladly took it. He nearly dragged her to the bath, her giggles echoing from the walls.

He was a very happy Time Lord, about to take a bath with the woman he loved, and it was _exactly_ how this evening was meant to pan out.


	29. Morning

He woke up and found his spirit huddled close to her spirit. He retreated immediately. He knew she didn't mind, still, to him, it felt intrusive and somehow wrong. But obviously, whenever he lost consciousness – or fell asleep, which was more or less the same – his spirit grabbed the opportunity to get closer to Clara's spirit. He couldn't blame him, it was a beautiful mind it resided in. Just as beautiful as the woman it belonged to.

When he retreated, he realized he was wrapped around Clara. He was the 'big spoon' like Clara put it. It was nice to feel her body next to his own, fitting perfectly. Her head fit under his chin, her shoulders fit to his collarbones, her back fit to his belly, her buttocks fit to his hips and the hollow of her knees fit to his kneecaps. As if they were two parts of a puzzle that was complete when they were together.

He wondered how it would be to feel both. Her body and her spirit at the same time. It was still a thought that scared him a bit, not knowing what exactly would happen when their spirits melted. But it didn't scare him as much as it had some time ago. They had figured out so many things together and Clara continued to amaze him. So, he was rather confident it would turn out alright.

His thoughts got distracted by looking at her ear sticking out from her ruffled hair. It was a beautiful ear. Like all the other things about her, it was tiny, roundish, and gorgeous. He wondered if his nose would fit into it. He propped himself up and tried it. It fit. Kind of. The tip of it. And it smelled good.

“Doctor? What are you doing, for Earth's sake?”

Clara mumbled, sleepily.

“Oh, did I wake you? Sorry. I wanted to try something.”

“If you could sneak into my brain through my ear? Have you forgotten you are telepathic?”

“Yes... no... not really... but... your ear smells good.”

“Thank you for the status update.”

Clara giggled. She turned around and kissed him. She not only smelled good, she also tasted good. He didn't mind morning breath at all, it told interesting stories. Although...

“Since you are awake... How about breakfast?”

Not that he was hungry, but breakfast was his favorite meal, no matter what time it was for him. And he was sure the Zodaniak Falls had a fabulous buffet.

“I could have bet you'd say that. Come on, then.”

She got up and went to the bathroom. He gazed after her, admiring _everything_ about her. She turned around.

“Don't you want to come with me to the shower?”

Showering? They had taken a bath yesterday evening. There was no need to clean their bodies again. It had been great fun to play with the bubble bath. And then, they had made sure that every part of their bodies was properly cleaned. They had inspected and cleaned each other's body. Which was logical, because that way, they could reach body parts they didn't reach on their own. He had discovered that she was ticklish between her toes. And that there was a spot in the hollows of her knees that made her purr like a cat when he caressed it. Her skin felt amazing when it was wet. Not that it felt less amazing when it was dry. It was just... it was another way of smooth. Wet-smooth, not dry-smooth. Both exciting.

“Doctor?”

Clara still stood at the door to the bathroom. She had stretched out her hand.

Right. She wanted to take a shower. She wanted to take a shower  _together_ with him.

Oh.  _Oh_ .

Well, in that case, he didn't mind making sure he had done a good job cleaning her body yesterday evening. He had the distinct feeling that his hair hadn't been washed meticulously enough. He was sure it had become messed up while sleeping, and Clara had to spend quite some time to wash it properly in the shower.

He jumped up from the bed to join her.

He bit into his sandwich. It was roasted  Zefraean purple bread, scrambled Ghaigjosar eggs, bacon – well, not real bacon, it was a type of Zefraean plant he forgot the name of, but it tasted like Earth bacon – and cruebossberry sauce. 

Clara watched him, an amused smirk in the corner of her mouth.

“What?”

He asked nearly incomprehensible, because it was a large sandwich and he had taken a large bite.

“I'm still amazed how someone who looks like a stick insect can eat so much. I mean, it isn't like you hadn't three bowls of cereal before that.”

“They had three different types of milk and 23 different ingredients on the buffet. What was I about to do?”

He munched. He was still low-key mad that it hadn't been 24 different ingredients. He looked at Clara and decided he had to explain it to her because she didn't seem to understand.

“See, if I want to do them all justice, I had to try every type of milk. So, that's three bowls. But... it were only 23 ingredients and that doesn't divide by three. 23 doesn't divide by anything. How dare they providing a prime number of ingredients? Don't they _think_ when they are preparing a breakfast buffet? Why don't they have 299 ingredients? That way it could be divided by 13, and I think 13 is awesome to divide something by...”

“They might find 299 cereal ingredients if they import some from different planets, but I doubt you find 13 different types of milk that are affordable and digestible,” Clara interrupted his explanation and his train of thoughts.

He had to admit that this sounded logical.

“You are probably right. And importing milk is a logistical nightmare, even in the 31th century...”

He finished his sandwich with one final bite and swallowed it with a big sip of Zathrara Purple, a tea brand with a slight note of gossar. He picked up where he left off.

“Anyway, so, I had to decide how to divide the ingredients in a way it made sense. I decided it to be one bowl with round things, one with other shapes, and one with darker than yellowish brown things. I had to accept compromises and make some tough decisions, like, if the happaberries were more round or more darker than yellowish, but in the end it worked out fine.”

He sat back in his chair, proud of himself, and looked at Clara for approval. Clara giggled.

“What?”

He didn't understand what she found amusing about this tough decision he had to make early in the morning to satisfy his sense of justice and patterns.

“Nothing. Say... do you always have to do maths with your food?”

He looked at her, surprised.

“Oh yes. Yes, of course. Food _is_ mathematics! Just as physics and poetry are the same. It rhymes. It is music. It has patterns. I see, hear, and taste those patterns, and I need to make them fit, otherwise I can't enjoy them!”

He always had assumed it was the same for everybody. But maybe not for humans.

“It... when you eat something... it... doesn't rhyme?”

He asked carefully, not knowing how to word it without being offensive if it was something she was not able to enjoy. Clara giggled, then, when she looked into his eyes, turned serious.

“No. No, Doctor, for me, food doesn't rhyme. I don't taste patterns when I eat.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.”

That was sad. She was missing so much. But that would explain why she never sorted her jelly babies by color. And why she didn't cut her toast into triangles before eating. He wondered how she could enjoy toast without doing that, first, but maybe humans just had different taste buds.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Didn't you tell me it is rude to remind humans when they can't do something. Like, saying to someone blind that they can't see?”

She frowned, then she smiled and cupped his cheek.

“Yes, yes, it can be offensive, you recalled that correctly.”

He beamed. He loved when she acknowledged his attempts to learn humans.

“But in that case, it wasn't offensive because I didn't even know that you can enjoy food that way. It sounds interesting.”

“Interesting... like... interesting-weird? Interesting-wrong?”

“If you enjoy something, and it doesn't harm somebody else or yourself it is never wrong, Doctor!”

She stroked his cheek with her thumb and he leaned into her touch.

“No, Doctor, it really sounds interesting and amazing. There are so many things that are different for you than they are for me, and I love learning about them. Don't ever be scared to tell me about them because you deem them too weird, okay?”

That was good. Because he liked to tell her about those things that fascinated him.

“I could create a symphony with that blueberry cake, pretzels, bentnut butter, sugar crabs, and fruit salad for you! They rhyme perfectly!”

Clara giggled. Was this funny? It was tasty, but she found it funny?

“No, thank you, Doctor, but I've had enough. And, seriously, it sounds a bit weird to me, but that's probably on my human taste buds.”

“Oh, okay... your loss...”

He got up to fetch a plate for himself. He saw that they also had Zefraean checked salmon and wondered if he should try it afterwards. No, he decided, they could probably catch some themselves when they were at the lake. They were easy to catch and tasted wonderful if you wrapped them in large plucktree leaves, together with wild herbs, and buried the package in the coals of a campfire for a while. Did Clara like checked salmon? Did Clara like fishing? He didn't know. There were so many things about her he still didn't know. He doubted there was enough time and space in this universe to find out all those little things.

He looked over to the table where Clara sat. She had her elbow on the table, her chin resting in her hand, she was looking into his direction, there was a twinkle in her eyes, and she smiled.

He hadn't figured this expression out, yet, but he was 96.97% sure it was a good one. It made his hearts feel warm and it was almost _always_ a good expression if they felt that way.

He smiled back.

Her smile widened.

Whenever she smiled like _that_ he felt like he was okay. As if there was nothing wrong with him. On the contrary, as if he was the best thing in this room.

He hoped his smile made her feel the same.


	30. Cloudcycling

Of course, she wanted to ride the cloudcycle herself. He shouldn't have expected anything else from _his_ Clara. She loved motorcycles so there was no way for her being satisfied with being the pillion rider.

He hadn't thought that it was possible, humans weren't telepathic, after all, but she wanted to try and so they tried.

Of course, it worked. He needed to get a second telepathic helmet so she could make the connection, but then, it worked.

It felt strange for him to be the passenger. But it also felt good to have his hands wrapped around Clara's middle and let her to do the driving. He only had to intervene every once in a while when she was driving too fast or underestimated a curve. Otherwise, her experience in motorcycling seemed to be transferable to cloudcycling.

_It really is like motorcycling, only better._

One of the advantages of them both wearing telepathic helmets was that they could communicate in telepathy without any effort. And, in his case, while still being aware of his body and his surroundings.

_I know, right? I had no doubt you would love it!_

_You only had no idea I wanted to ride the cloudycle myself._

_Yes, stupid me, I should have known. Still amazed that you can._

_Still underestimating humans, Doctor?_

_Still underestimating Clara Oswald, obviously._

They had reached the top of the mountain and Clara stopped so they could admire the view. They took off their helmets, and looked down to the lake and to the mountains on the opposite side where the second sun was just about to set. Another hour or so and the third sun would set, and by then, they should have reached their destination.

“It really is a beautiful planet, Doctor.”

“Among my top ten. And the top of those with breathable atmosphere for humans.”

He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She leaned into him.

“We've come far, you and me.”

Clara murmured. The vibration of her voice felt good against his chest.

“The hotel is not so far away. We have taken a few secret routes and detours to come here.”

“No, that's not what I meant...”

Oh. Okay. What did she mean then? Perhaps...

“And you only have seen a small fraction of my favorite places, yet, Clara Oswald. I have far more than 101 favorite places in this universe.”

He placed a small kiss on her head. She giggled. He loved her giggling. He didn't know why she giggled, but it was a nice feeling towards his chest anyway.

“That's also not what I meant... I thought, you and me, we have come far in terms of... things.”

She turned to him and let her small hands crawl around his middle.

“I still recall a Time Lord that was very, very afraid of hugging.”

He smiled and hugged his small human very close.

“Not anymore.”

It was hard to believe that there had been a time when he was outright afraid of being touched. He still felt uncomfortable when other human beings touched him. But not Clara. Clara was okay. Clara was more than okay. Clara was warm, and roundish, and comfortable, and very, very huggable.

Clara wiggled herself a bit out of his bear hug to look up to him.

“Mhm. And there was a time when this Time Lord was very, very, very afraid of kissing.”

She rose to her toes, he bowed a bit down, and she placed first a kiss on his forehead, then a kiss on his nose, and then kissed him properly on the mouth.

His brain kicked comfortably into kissing mode, letting the body do most of the work while most of his brain simply relaxed into the delightful feeling of being kissed by Clara. And kissing her in return. It was hard to believe how his brain had gone into panic mode when she had first kissed him. It seemed like such a normal and pleasuring thing to do. Nearly like eating a good dinner. No, better than eating a good dinner. Far, far better than that. Well, maybe not the dinner at the Barghan Hongh on Ghat’Baharan, there was not much in this universe that beat...

“Is there a nice hotel near the Barghan Hongh? I would like to judge whether you are right?”

Oh. He _still_ forgot that this incarnation was a crappy telepath.

“I have no idea, actually. I only went there for the dishes.”

He smiled sheepishly.

“Then we will find out next time, okay?”

That sounded good. There was so much he wanted her to see and so many things he wanted to do together with her that he sometimes doubted there was enough time for it in this lifetime. The thought made him sad.

“Then just don't think about it, and kiss me.”

 _His_ small human replied and kissed him again. Well, perhaps she was right. No, he was 86.65% sure she was right. Time was a fragile thing. But it was also an expandable, multi-dimensional, very, very, complex thing that was hard to comprehend, even when you had a four-dimensional flow-chart to help. Usually, he let the TARDIS do all the calculations. And right now, he cared about other things.

“We should maybe look that we get to the bay with the tree house before the third sun sets, Clara.”

“Right you are! I'm already looking forward to it!”

She mounted the cloudcycle which looked like an ordinary cloud for people who weren't interested in one of the finest developments of Zefraean engineering. He, of course, knew that the A 524 Gatherbolt Mark II was the top model of a long line of amazing cloudcycles. Probably the best thing about them – apart from the refined way of navigating them with thoughts which went much more smoothly and less glitchy than earlier versions – was that you could form the cloud in any way it fit your body. And Clara looked perfectly comfortable the way she sat now.

“Are you admiring me or the cloudcycle, Doctor?”

Oh. Right.

“I admire beauty in all its forms and shapes, Clara!”

He put the helmet on and, after a bit of pushing and shoving, he had formed the cloud in a way he had a comfy seat that also allowed the most body contact with Clara.

He patted her shoulder to indicate he was ready to ride with her. Then he wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head against her back, right between her shoulder blades. It was a great space to rest his head. He really should search for occasions he could do that more often.

It was, indeed, one of the best places in this universe.


	31. Campfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marshcaps drew this scene beautifully. You find her artwork attached as [Chapter 38](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24407377/chapters/70249668).

The dusk on Zefra 9 was beautiful. The fading light of the second and third sun setting played with the mist that was now rising from the woods. Sometimes it nearly looked as if there was a rainbow-colored veil over the mountains.

Clara and the Doctor sat huddled together on the bay and watched in silence until the light had faded, until it only roughly outlined their surroundings. Then, Clara lit the campfire.

They didn't catch checked salmon. They had decided to leave them to Jack and his vast family. Instead they ate some sandwiches they brought from the hotel. Then, the Doctor pulled out a bag of marshmallows and they roasted some over the fire.

Clara played with her new necklace.

“You promised me to tell me the legend of that raven, Doctor.”

He was suddenly insecure. He hadn't told a Gallifreyan legend for years. No. For centuries.

“I'm not sure I can do it correctly.”

Clara's big brown eyes looked at him questioningly.

“A legend... It has to be told in a certain way. Exactly like the elders have told it. It needs to be phrased exactly right or it isn't correct. I don't know if I can translate it in a way that will not destroy the legend.”

Clara's hand crawled into his.

“I'm sure you can do that.”

He caressed her hand. He suddenly felt small and insecure.

“And then... there is a dimension I never learned. A telepathic skill. A _real_ storyteller on Gallifrey can tell a legend in a way it creates the story in the heads of those who listen, with all the characters and actions. I have never learned that skill.”

“You mean... when you tell the story, the listeners can see it? Like a movie?”

He nodded.

“But... it is like that for me. When someone tells a story I can see it happen in my head.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you... I don't know... magic?”

Clara giggled.

“No, it is just an ordinary human skill. Well, not every human has it, some have a brain that sees concepts instead of pictures, but a lot of humans are like me. When you tell a story, we see the movie.”

“Wow. Humans will never cease to amaze me. No wonder you are my favorite species!”

He pecked a kiss on Clara's head, which was a welcome opportunity to catch a whiff of her smell. Her hair always smelled fantastic, and now, combined with the scent of the campfire and roasted marshmallows it was like a well-written piece of music.

“Your hair is a symphony,” he remarked, which made her giggle.

“Don't try to escape with sweet talking, Doctor. I want to hear the story of the raven.”

The Doctor smiled.

“Well, then, Clara Oswald. It is not only the story of a raven, it is also the story of an owl,” he pointed to his cufflinks.

“Awww, you even matched your cufflinks to the necklace? That's very thoughtful. _That_ really is _romantic_ , Doctor.”

“Of course, I did!”

Internally he was bursting with pride that he got something romantic right. It was one of the most confusing human concepts. Actually, he didn't understand how cufflinks could be romantic, but that didn't matter. He got it _right_. Now, if he managed to tell the legend properly...

He cleared his throat.

“Oh, wait a moment. Can I rest my head in your lap?”

“In my lap? Sure... why?”

“When my family was out camping... like we do now, in a sense... my mom would always tell me a story at the campfire before I had to go off to bed. And I always rested my head in her lap, while she told the story.”

Oh. He really would like that. He leaned back a bit more, so he rested securely against the rock behind him. Then he patted his lap. Clara rested her head there and snuggled closer towards his belly.

“That feels nice, you could do that more often,” he smiled down at his small, roundish human. “I love resting my head in your lap, I never had any idea you liked that, too. Why didn't you do it before?”

“I... I don't know, actually. I think I felt silly because it is so childlike.”

“Do you think it is childlike when I rest my head in your lap?”

“No, it is just nice. It tells me you trust me and feel comfortable around me. And it feels nice.”

“So, why should it be different when you do it, Clara Oswald?”

Clara looked up to him, smiled, and, to his surprise, grabbed his earlobe.

“You are absolutely correct, Doctor. And it is sure an interesting change of perspective. I never saw your earlobes from this angle.”

He frowned. Then, he remembered how adorable Clara's nostrils looked from the same perspective.

“And... do my earlobes tell you something new about me?”

Clara caressed his earlobe, which sent a shiver down his spine, and right into his toes. It felt funny, and exciting.

“Only that they feel nice, and I have ignored them for too long, because it seems you like it when I caress them.”

“They seem to have a connection to my toes, somehow. And it is like tickling, but on the inside. I know it sounds silly... but it is definitely a nice feeling.”

Clara kneaded his earlobe and _that_ felt even nicer. He answered with a soft, purring sound he was not even sure how he produced it.

“When I do that, it obviously transforms you into a big, grey tomcat, Doctor.”

Clara giggled her typical giggle he adored so much.

“I can live with that. There are far worse fates than being the tomcat of Clara Oswald. But you are very lucky. Because, other than an ordinary tomcat, this Time Lord tomcat can do this...”

And he bowed down to kiss her. Clara let go of his earlobe to stroke the back of his head. She smiled when they parted lips.

“Will I ever get to hear the story of that raven and the owl, Doctor?”

“Is my little human a bit impatient?”

He grinned as he received a playful slap, more a caressing movement than a slap, from Clara.

“Oi! I'm not impatient!”

“Oh, yes, yes, you are.”

He wrapped her into the blanket, deliberately dragging out the process because he knew it would make her even more impatient.

“Doctor! I _know_ what you are doing!”

“What?”

He tried his most innocent facial expression, which earned him another giggle.

“You are trying to avoid telling the story, you coward! Come on, now?”

“Awww... look at this adorably impatient human being in my lap.”

“That impatient human being can pinch your earlobe in a way its color matches your coat, so be careful, Doctor!”

She said and grabbed his earlobe again. The upward crinkle in the corner of her mouth told him she didn't really mean it, and that she wasn't really cross with him. His earlobe was safe for now.

He grinned broadly, let his thumb run over her forehead, down to her earlobe, grabbed it, played with it – it was the softest earlobe he could recall – and finally rested his hand on her shoulder, pulling her close to him.

“Alright, then, little, roundish, impatient human being, let me tell you the story of the raven and the owl...”


	32. The Raven & The Owl

The Doctor looked over the flames of the campfire and told the story in a soft, melodic voice that was so crucial for telling a Gallifreyan legend. And he used different voices for the characters, the way one did if one were a Gallifreyan storyteller. It was an old and venerable profession and he just hoped he did it justice. And, even more, he hoped the small human woman who rested her head in his lap and who meant the universe to him would like his way of telling the story.

“Once upon a time there was an owl and a raven. They were both warriors, both very, very strong and very, very brave. They both wanted to rule the world, and so, they got into a fight. They fought night and day.

In the night, the owl was stronger, because of his sharp eyes that could see in the dark, while the raven couldn’t see anything. But, as they were both very, very strong, and the raven was very, very fast, the raven put up a good fight until the break of dawn.

And when it dawned, the owl grew tired and the raven got stronger, because she was refreshed by the sun and her eyes were better suited for the bright daylight. And so, they fought all day. Although the raven was faster and could see better in daylight, the owl was still very, very strong and very, very smart.

And when the sun set, the raven got tired and the cool evening breeze brought fresh strength for the owl. And so, again, the advantage was on the side of the owl, and their fight continued.

And so, they fought.

They fought for twelve long nights and twelve long days.

And just as the sun was setting on the twelfth day, a child came along.

And the child asked:

“Why do you fight?”

And the owl answered:

“Because I want to rule the world.”

And the raven answered:

“Because I want to rule the world.”

And the child asked:

“But why? Why do you both want to rule the world?”

And the owl answered:

“Because I care for my people. My people are the shy ones, who fear to come out in the bright daylight. They are afraid of the loud creatures of the day and if I rule the world, I can protect them from those evil creatures of the day.”

And the raven answered:

“Because I care for my people. My people are the outgoing ones, who love the bright sunshine. They are afraid of the menacing creatures that sneak in the shadows and the darkness and if I rule the world, I can protect them from those evil creatures of the night.”

And the child looked at them both and was silent for a short while. And then, it said:

“But if you, owl, can’t see in the daylight, how can you protect your people during the day? And if you, raven, can’t see in the dark, how can you protect your people during the night?”

And the raven and the owl looked at the child, and then, they looked at each other.

And they had to admit that the child was right.

And the child rubbed its chin, and it said:

“How about... if you split ruling the world?”

“How can you split ruling the world? ” The owl asked.

“You either rule the world or you don't rule the world,” the raven crowed.

And the child looked from one to the other, and it said:

“You both want something good, you want to protect your people. But you are not able to do that. But you both have the skills to protect the people of the other. You, raven, can see during the day and can protect the creatures of the night if they want to come out from the shadows during the day. And you, owl, can see during the night and can protect the creatures of the day if they want to walk in the darkness of the night. That way, you both achieved what you wanted to achieve, and you are both rulers of the world, one by day, and one by night.”

And with these words, the child disappeared.

The raven and the owl sat in silence for a long while.

Then, they looked at each other, nodded, and swore an oath.

The raven pledged to protect the creatures of the night during the day, and the owl pledged to protect the creatures of the day during the night.

And so, whenever you see the first light of the sun creeping over the horizon, the owl flies to the raven to wake her, and remind her to keep a good watch over his people during the day.

And whenever you see the sun disappearing at the horizon, the raven flies to the owl to wake him, and remind him to keep a good watch over her people during the night.

But there is a special time in between, the time they wake each other, and remind each other, the time of dawn, and the time of dusk, where they sit together, and look into the same direction together, and keep a watch over all those little creatures together.

And this is the time when they both rule the world – together.

And so, my child, whether you are a shy one, who fears to come out in the bright daylight and you are scared of the loud creatures of the day, or whether you are an outgoing one, who loves the bright sunshine and you are scared of the menacing creatures that hide in the shadows and the darkness, you can always rest assured that there is a raven and an owl who keep a good watch over you.”

“Awww, that was a beautiful story, Doctor.”

The small human woman in his lap looked up to him with her beautiful, large, brown eyes glowing even warmer than the campfire. He let his hand gently glide over her forehead, her cheek, down her neck and to the necklace with the raven.

“Yes... I like it very much. And I chose it, because... _you,_ you are my raven, Clara Oswald. _You_ navigate me through all the things I can't see and understand in your world, and _you_ keep a good watch over me. And I just hope that I can be your owl, and that I can protect you from the darkness and all the bad things that are in my world.”

Clara's hand grabbed his hand firmly and interlocked her fingers with his.

“You make an excellent owl, Doctor. We take a good watch over each other. And I hope we have many, many dusks and dawns together.”

Clara pulled herself up and wrapped him in her arms, leaning her forehead against his.

“You know what this was?”

He couldn't answer, because she kissed him immediately and if he had learned just one thing about kissing it was that it was impossible to kiss and speak at the same time. He didn't mind. He loved kissing Clara. He couldn't believe he had been so afraid of it in the beginning.

After a while, they parted lips.

“No idea. What was it?” He answered her initial question.

“A bedtime story.”

Clara giggled, jumped up and put forth her hand, pretty much like he offered his hand when he was inviting someone into the TARDIS to travel with him.

He didn't hesitate a microsecond to grab it and let Clara pull him towards the tree house.


	33. Unwrapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, yes, time to start the inevitable, right?

The tree-house had an amazing view to the lake and the mountains with a balcony running all around the house itself. But just now, neither the Doctor nor Clara cared about the view. In the comfortable interior room of the tree-house, next to the spacious double bed, they were slowly undressing each other.

The Doctor loved undressing Clara. It was like unwrapping a precious gift, something delicate and fragile. The human body was a miracle to him. Everything was so beautiful, such an intelligently thought of concept, the peak of biological engineering on Earth, if there was such a thing. And, as far as he was concerned, Clara's body in particular was a masterpiece of Earth's nature.

He never understood the things she pointed out to him she didn't like about her body. Apparently, she compared her body to the body of other human beings and _this_ he found very odd because how could you compare something to something that wasn't the same? He would never compare the appearance of one human to another. That was just as stupid as comparing one apple to the other. Of course they looked different! But they tasted fantastic, no matter how they looked on the outside. Besides, apples all looked delicious.

Just like Clara's breasts. She had told him she had been a bit afraid to show them to him in the beginning of their relationship because they were different. Of course they were different! They were a right one and a left one, just like his eyebrows were different! They were _meant_ to be different.

And they reacted differently when he caressed them. The left one would immediately let its nipple stand out. The right nipple hid, and needed a bit more attention. Which he found adorable. Just like Clara herself, it was a nipple with a very distinct and very adorable personality. Not that he loved the left nipple any less. He gave them both the due attention once he had removed Clara's bra.

For him, this had nothing to do with sex. It was just nice to feel the warmth of her body, smelling her smell, and then, tasting her skin and feeling out the pattern of her nipple and her breast with his tongue. It was a delicious way of enjoying being close to her.

They were really very different, but it didn't matter.

He enjoyed that they hadn't yet bonded telepathically, because that way he could relish feeling her body. And his own, because now, Clara was slowly unbuttoning his shirt. In the beginning of their relationship, he had refused to remove it. It was a remnant from his past, from the years on Trenzalore where he always had needed to be ready to fight. Without his shirt, he felt helpless.

He felt Clara's small fingers cautiously unbuttoning first the front, then the cuffs. Then, she was gently moving her hands upwards, over his chest to his shoulders, wrapping him out of his shirt. It was okay. He still felt a bit helpless, but it was okay.

With Clara, it was always okay to feel a bit helpless or insecure. He could trust her. He was safe. Whatever it was, if something brought bad memories about, or felt strange, or scared him, they could always talk about it and figure it out together.

He carefully removed her skirt which gave him access to her perfectly round buttocks. Clara insisted they weren't perfectly round, but he didn't care. They felt perfectly round under his hands and that was all that mattered. And they felt marvelous, soft and firm. He kneaded them, which let a moan escape from Clara's mouth.

It was an adorable sound. His spirit had been voicing his will to bond with her spirit for quite some time now. But he willed that desire back. He wanted to feel her a bit longer before he allowed that to happen.

Not that he was afraid of bonding and finally melting their spirits. Far from it. But he found the anticipation exciting. Just for now, he could savor feeling his own body and Clara's body as separate beings. If they melted their spirits, this would be different. They would be one being.

The way it was now, he was fully aware of his surroundings and could witness how Clara was enjoying what he did to her body.

“And you seem to like what you see, Doctor.”

He blushed.

“Sorry, I forgot to shield my brain... and think I'm unable to do that anyway when we are doing... this. I need to focus my attention on you. You will have to live with Crappy Telepath Me in this incarnation.”

Clara let her fingers run up his back and into his hair. She ruffled it.

“Awww... that's somehow cute. And exciting. I love hearing you adoring my body. Especially as I know you have no control over your thoughts so you really mean it that way.”

“I just hope I think tasteful and not too much nonsense.”

He pulled her knickers down, over her knees, and, kneeling before her, removed them completely. That way, his nose was on the same level with the furry triangle that covered her vulva. He took a deep breath and enjoyed her smell there.

He contemplated pleasuring her that way, just relishing Clara's excitement and delight. A small hand grabbed his hair in his neck.

“No way. Not tonight.”

Clara playfully forced him to stand up.

“Together, or not at all!”

Her large, brown eyes seemed even larger than usual, and there was an amused and commanding smirk in the corner of her mouth.

“Yes, Boss!”

He mumbled letting his head sink to her neck, placing a line of kisses from her neck to her shoulders, which never failed to make her shiver.

Two very determined hands opened his belt and guided him to sit down on the bed.

His skin was very sensitive in this incarnation, especially where it usually was covered by clothes. There were many reasons why he generally avoided being touched by others, but this was one of them. If touched too lightly, it was an unpleasant feeling, it tickled or burned.

But Clara had learned to touch him in a way it didn't do that. He could trust her. He leaned back, and let her remove his trousers. She did it in a firm, yet, caressing movement. She didn't scratch his skin with her fingernails and made sure the fabric didn't irritate his sensitive heels and toes. His underpants followed.

He pulled her towards him and kissed her. Then, he wrapped his arms closer around her, and, in a well trained Venusian Aikido move, lifted her off her feet, let them both drop backwards, and, with a movement to the side, rested firmly on his back with Clara on top.

“Wow, that was unexpected.”

Clara giggled. He brushed her hair out of her face and let his hand run over her cheek and her beautiful jawline, finally resting his index finger on her chin.

“Good that I can still surprise you, every now and then, Clara Oswald.”

He really hoped that this was true. That even when they shared everything, if thinking, feeling, being had become one, he would still be able to make his impossible girl giggle in surprise when she was in his arms.


	34. Bonding Vow

“Are you staying outside or are you coming in?”

Clara asked with an amused and seductive smirk, her large brown eyes luring him inside her mind already. His spirit nearly screamed he should finally allow the bonding to happen. But he wanted to save this moment for eternity, and the longer they didn't bond, the longer he could relish her beauty.

“You are a small, impatient human being, Clara Oswald.”

He let his right hand run from her shoulder over her left breast, teasing her nipple, reaching farther down, teasing her belly button which was the tiniest and most adorable belly button he had ever seen. It made her squeal. He filed this information away for later use.

“And I am a Time Lord. I have time in overabundance.”

He let his hand glide even deeper, searching with his thumb for a very sensitive spot his hands knew very well. He just hadn't had the joy of experiencing her reaction until now. It was a beautiful sight to see Clara so obviously enjoying what he did.

After a while Clara grabbed his hand and stopped his motions, pulling it up, and, intertwining their fingers, pinned it beside his head. She kissed him, intense, full of passion and desire.

“I am a human, I'm making the most of my time, and I said together or not at all.”

He loved when she took control. He was at her command and willing to do everything she wanted him to do.

She rested her forehead against his. Her spirit reached out to his, but this time he blocked her.

“And I say that we do this right or not at all.”

“Right?”

She eyed him confused.

“Well, it is a bonding ceremony, after all. For me, this is very special. I will do it like the Time Lord I am. With a bonding vow.”

“A bonding vow?”

“Yes... it is usually part of the wedding ceremony. I had to adapt it a bit for... the circumstances.”

She frowned, then her face lit up and she kissed him tenderly.

“This sounds very romantic, Doctor.”

He caressed her cheek with his thumb.

“I'm still struggling with the human concept of romantic, Clara Oswald, but I think it is.”

He gently guided her forehead back to his forehead, keeping three fingers on her temple.

He allowed his spirit to enter her brain, but stopped then, keeping his spirit apart from her spirit, standing mentally as upright and formal as possible in a brain he already knew so well. He just hoped he would get it right. He was not aware of his body, but he was rather sure both his hearts were beating frantically.

He did a mental bow.

_This Time Lord is here to ask you to share your spirit with him. He is aware that he is by far not the best you could get. He is stupid, and arrogant, and a nuisance. But he loves you with everything he is, with both his hearts, with everything he has ever been and everything he will ever be. He is willing to spend the rest of your life with you. To have, to hold, to protect, to defend, to see, to run with, to cook with, to watch boring TV shows with, to do everything, as long as it is with you and it is pleasing you, Clara Oswald. He vows to never abandon you, to stay with you when times are hard, and to stay by your side until the very last breath. I'm standing here, with nothing to myself but my name, which is __________________ and with this I offer you to take me if you are willing to._

For a moment, there was silence.

He was sure he was holding his breath.

Of course, Clara wasn't aware of bonding ceremonies. He had told her about them, but not about the more intimate things, like the vow. He maybe should have done that.

Stupid, stupid Doctor. He always got it wrong when it came to Clara.

He felt a gentle touch from her spirit.

___________________,_

Hearing her spirit saying his name sent a mental shiver through his whole existence.

_My Doctor. I know I'm a nuisance with some very bad habits. But I love you from the bottom of my heart. I wish I could spend the rest of eternity with you. We both know this isn't possible. You know that I will die, either running by your side or dying of illness or age. This is a burden you impose upon yourself if you chose me, a human. If you are aware of that... that this means not happy ever after, but just being together for as long as we got, I would be very happy to have, hold, protect, defend, see, caress, scold, kiss, to run and spend the rest of my life with you._

It was deeply moving to hear her making up a vow from scratch so brilliantly. It was her heart speaking. It was hard to believe she had just one.

_I'm aware of that. I don't like it, but I'm aware of that. And even Time Lords can die, so nothing is ever eternal. I'm aware of what it means, Clara, my Clara. But I want to spend the rest of your life with you and make every second of it count. I love you, Clara Oswald!_

_And I love you, __________________, my Doctor!_

Their spirits embraced cautiously, nearly shy, sealing the bond.

A bond not made for eternity, but for as long as they got.


	35. ____________

It of course didn't stay a cautious embrace. As soon as their spirits felt each other close, there was no stopping. They hugged, flowed around each other, teased each other.

He felt her desire to melt was stronger than ever and there was a certain tingling on the outskirts of their spirits that told him they were so close to melt accidentally.

But he didn't want it to happen accidentally. They both should be aware and consent.

_Hey._

It was more a noise than an articulated thought. They were too much involved in being close to each other to have a clear conversation.

_Hey._

The answer was exactly the same moaned thought.

_Ready?_

_You are the one who hesitates. I'm ready since forever._

His Clara.

Always braver than him, more daring, less afraid of the consequences.

In fact, her spirit nearly tugged on his.

He took a deep mental breath and crushed the final barrier between their spirits.

There it was.

He felt his body again.

And at the same time, he felt her body.

More than that.

He _was_ her body. 

He was both bodies at the same time.

This was so... different.

Completely different than being with another Time Lord or Time Lady, where just the spirits melted.

His spirit was one with Clara's and this didn't confuse him in the slightest. Clara's spirit was so very similar to his own. Of course, it was different, smaller, she was a human after all. But he felt at home in her spirit, it was as if their spirits always had belonged together. So this melting of spirits felt like coming home to a place he already knew, that he had been in for a million years and that had just been waiting for him to return.

But the bodies...

He always had thought of human sex as rather primitive, compared to other species. A simple, mechanical thing, with a logical sequence of friction and result. Something that was easy to perform because it followed simple steps, like an instruction manual for a very simple machine.

He hadn't expected  _this._

Maybe it was because he had always been in a male body, and now, experiencing a unity, also being a human body, a female human body...

_It hurts!_

_What?_

For the moment he had forgotten that, although being one, they were still two.

_All your faces! There are so many! It is... all in my head... it hurts!_

Oh.

Of course.

For her the melting of spirits was just as confusing as the melting of bodies was for him. And her mind was so much smaller than his, it was just logical that flowing into every corner of his being would be a bit much for a human.

He carefully blocked off his earlier incarnations with their experiences, their thoughts, and their feelings. It was a bit uncomfortable because, of course, they all wanted to experience all of Clara and were not too keen to be shut off. It was a conscious effort, but he managed.

_Better?_

_Much. It is... so different._

_For me, too._

_Really?_

_Yes. But for me it is more that I'm not used to feel... bodies. Mine. Yours. Ours. It... it is confusing._

_Does... it hurt?_

_No. Don't worry. It is exciting but also confusing. I didn't know you are so... complex._

_Complex?_

_Yes. Exciting. Deep. Complex. Missing the thoughts to describe it. Better to show it._

And he did.

He stopped thinking, because it just distracted him from the beauty of feeling himself being himself, being Clara, being himself in Clara, having Clara being a part of him, being one single body and soul.

There were so many things he had never felt before. Or felt, but only felt them as something physical happening, without his spirit being involved. And so many things in exploring another spirit that never in those past two millenniums had had a physical feeling to match them.

Complete.

That was what it was.

He felt complete.

Filling each and every corner of Clara's spirit, feeling her reaching into his spirit, touching places that hadn't been touched in centuries.

Feeling the warmth of her body, both inside and out. The scent, the touches, the sounds, the looks... both seeing himself through her eyes and seeing her with his own eyes.

As far as he was concerned, they could have done this for eternity.

Or at least until the break of dawn.

But there was something...

Something not Time Lord...

Something human...

An urge.

A desire.

A want.

A craving for a high point, a completion, an end of sorts.

He was scared to think about it.

Yet, it was something the human part of him needed.

The human part?

Oh, right, Clara.

They were one.

But they were still different species with different needs.

This was the human need.

Maybe that was the major difference.

Time Lords were eternal.

Humans were mortal.

Time Lords feared things ending while humans needed an end to reach completion.

And that was okay.

It was what they had vowed.

Not for eternity, but for as long as they got.

It was true in the most encompassing sense of their life.

But it was also true for this melting of spirits.

Clara, his human part, needed a high point, a summit, a climax.

Feeling her body and his own it was not complicated at all.

It was easy.

He knew what she needed.

He had no idea what he needed, but he was in a mood to let things happen and see how it would pan out.

He felt Clara clutching into him and heard her make the most adorable sound.

And just in that moment, he exploded.

At least, that was how it felt to him.

He was overwhelmed by a gleaming, orange light that consumed him.

It was like regenerating, but without the pain.

The gleaming, orange light burned without hurting.

It spiraled, it shed warmth over their bodies, it blinded them, bonded them closer together, tore their bodies apart, unified them again, made them complete, made them one being, made them two separate beings, made them one being again.

It ebbed out like waves to a shore.

Like a sun setting into the dusk, it faded.

But something stayed.

Peace?

Was it peace?

It felt like peace.

Was this how being at peace felt?

He had been fighting so long and he had been running away from everything, including himself, so long that he forgot the word for how he felt.

Or maybe, there wasn't a word for it?

He felt happy, and not alone anymore, and understood, and complete, and at peace.

Oh, yes, there was a word for it.

A beautiful, old, Gallifreyan word.

It was:

____________


	36. Eternal Love

Slowly, very slowly, he became aware of their surroundings again.

He felt Clara heavy on his chest.

Their spirits had separated.

So had their bodies.

It was a strange feeling.

Clara didn't move.

For a short moment, he panicked.

Had he damaged her?

He carefully caressed her head.

She looked up, vision cloudy, a bit dreamy.

“Hey!”

“Hey.”

“Are... are you alright?”

“Never felt better.”

“Good.”

Clara crawled to his side, snuggled into him, and rested her head on his chest again. He pulled the duvet over both their bodies and made sure her beautiful, warm, human body rested as close as possible to his own.

“Doctor?”

“Hmm?”

He was not sure if he was really in a mood for talking. He relished in the still prevailing feeling of ____________.

“I heard you thinking that it is different for the Time Lord side of us – for you. How? How is it different? How would it be if I were a... Time Lady?”

He kissed her head. His Clara. That little, active, brave, curious, human brain of hers never stopped thinking and asking questions. Not even now. His brain, however, needed some nudging to start thinking again and piecing together an answer.

“For Time Lords... well, the physical aspect is completely missing, but you knew that already. And then... hmmmm... well, we basically let our spirits melt and flow into each other, feeling each other's depths, feeling what we are, how we are. There is nothing like a climax or a high point of sorts. We just... get to know each other's minds, feeling each other... yes, it is just that, feeling each other and that we are a unity.”

“But... if there is no orgasm of sorts... how... I mean, it maybe sounds a bit weird, but... how... you know... how do you know that you are done?”

He chuckled.

“Well, we are Time Lords, so time is not really a determining factor for us. We just separate again when we feel we have enjoyed each other enough.”

“So... hmmmm.... but... I mean... that gleaming, orange light? When does this happen, then?”

“It... well, I never had it that way before. That light... it is there if you are with a Time Lord or a Time Lady, but it is... different. More a soft stream that starts flowing some time after the initial melting. Not as intense. Just as beautiful, but... not as intense, not like an explosion... more like a constant stream between the two of us.”

“Oh, so... that was something new to you, too?”

“It was, yes.”

For a few minutes neither said a word. He caressed her soft hair, not thinking anything, Clara played with the hair on his chest.

“All those faces... what did you do with them?”

He felt a sting of guilt in his hearts.

“Sorry about that, I didn't think about it. It hurt you. I'm sorry. Does it still hurt?”

He now touched her head as if he was searching for a crack. Of course this was useless, the damage would be on the inside, but he couldn't help doing it.

“No, don't worry. It immediately stopped when it was just you again.”

“It was all me,” he sighed, struggling to find a way to explain it, “it is all me, all my previous incarnations. They are all me. Usually, this isn't a problem, because...”

He trailed off, fighting the pain and the guilt inside.

“You feel guilty because we are not married?”

Of course, she could read his thoughts. He didn't bother shielding them anymore.

“A bit, perhaps. Although it is all very complicated. Different timelines, moving in opposite directions. Different things that happen and end. No, not really guilty, but it is a sensitive topic. Especially when I think about my first wife, it still hurts, you know. Usually, it is not so easy to kill a Time Lord. But it happens. The stars know, it happens!”

He willed away the pain, back into the special corner of his left heart he reserved especially for his first wife. A sacred place he would never let anybody in, not even Clara.

“What I'm trying to explain is.... usually, you marry someone in your first incarnation and then you stay together forever. Or, as long as you got together. So, one or the other might regenerate, but you won't be more than one or perhaps two incarnations apart. Only if one leads a very quiet and the other a very risky life you might experience the problem you encountered, you felt. That one spirit is so much more than the other that it hurts to melt. And, as I had a very risky life...”

He grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“... I knew what I had to do once you said it hurt. I'm so sorry... should have thought about it in the first place.”

“But...”

Clara looked at their fingers, unfolded them, compared the size of her fingers to his, then intertwined them again.

“...if you regenerate in a marriage... and you change personality... I mean, your previous self and this self are so different... I mean... how do you make it work? In a marriage, I mean. If you are constantly changing personalities?”

“Well, 'constantly changing' is maybe not the right term, Clara Oswald. We might live for centuries as the same man or woman if we don't have too much of a risky lifestyle and there isn't a Time War or something...”

He again battled the painful memories.

“And then, well, we are very different from your species... in the way we love.”

He fell silent, which made Clara prop herself up to look into his eyes. Those beautiful, brown, curious orbs that meant the universe to him.

“How? How do you love differently?”

He let his index finger run over her left eyebrow, down her cheek and along her precious jawline.

“For you small, mortal humans, love is rather short-lived, although you have such a ridiculously short time span to spend together with someone you love. You fall in love, you love someone, and you fall out of love and that sometimes within only a few years. Time Lords are different. For us, love is eternal. It doesn't matter that the personality of our partner changes. And the appearance. It is something new, yes, but they are still the same. We will discover the new and relish what it brings into the relationship, while nothing is lost of the one we fell in love with.”

“That's beautiful.” Clara smiled tenderly, ruffling his hair. “But you are mistaken, concerning humans. Well, this human, at least.”

“Am I?”

“Oh, yes. I loved your previous self, and I love this one. And, well, I don't know the other 'yous' very well, but I'm rather sure, I do love them, too, once I get to know them better. Because, ultimately, they are all you. And I _do_ love you.”

She bowed down and kissed him, because there were a lot of things his Clara had to tell him and words were not enough to describe them. And telepathy couldn't describe them very well. But there were things that their bodies and their spirits could _do_ that explained them perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, and this was nearly it. This was the penultimate chapter of this fic, only the epilogue left. It took long enough until they finally got here, don't you think? ;)


	37. Epilogue

“That was it, the story of the two lovers who were so very different, yet so very similar in the way they loved, the story about how they found a pathway through all their differences and shortcomings, how they learned about each other and grew together to form a unity.

Some say that they lived happy ever after. Some say there were still struggles ahead they had to face, but in the end, it all turned out alright. Some say that the cruel High Council of Gallifrey saw them as the Hybrid and they came and killed the human, and tortured the Time Lord who had broken the rules. Yet other say that when one of them died, the other went crazy in the attempt of bringing them back, risking all of time and space in the process. And that one had to forget the other to become happy again because they weren't able to cope with losing each other. Then again, others are convinced that there was a whole different outcome to their story. Or that there is no outcome at all, because their love is eternal, and whatever happens, in the end, they will always find each other again.

What is the truth? What is made up? Who knows? Who can tell?

All _I_ can tell you is to look up to the stars on a cold, clear, starry night like this one. Because, when you do that, when you look up, you see those millions and millions of stars above you. And you can imagine that there are just as many campfires as there are stars in this universe, if not more. Campfires just like this one. And on all these campfires, their story is told. All of their adventures. All of their fears. All of their pleasures. All of their failures. All of their successes. All of their deaths. All of their escapes. And all the little things that happened before, and after, and in between. It is told on all these campfires, because it is a story of a love even greater than the universe. And as we all well know, the universe is vast, always expanding, always growing. And that's beautiful.

This campfire, however, has come to an end. So, I get up and walk into the night. And you should go to bed, have a good night sleep and dream a dream about acceptance, understanding, and love. Because, in the end, love is what always carries us, no matter which form it takes. It is there in the cry of a child that is answered by a caring parent. It is there in the very last breath of someone who dies in the arms of a loved one. It is there in the kiss of two lovers. And especially, it is there in all the small, seemingly insignificant little things in between. In a partner ordering your favorite pizza after your souffle has gone wrong, in the friend who texts you how you are doing without any reason, in the smile of a colleague on a Monday morning.

It is okay to forget everything I told you, but promise me you will always remember this: as long as there is life, there's love. And even after life, in death, love doesn't go away. Because love, it is eternal. It doesn't go anywhere, it is always there.”

“Promise! Now... don't you want to stay and tell us another story?”

“Not tonight. It's getting late. You should go to bed and have a rest.”

“But... maybe tomorrow?”

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe in a year, maybe somewhere in between. You will see.”

“Where are you going?”

“I told you: into the night.”

“Are you okay?”

“In the great scheme of things, it is always okay, because in this vast universe, things always even out. Don't worry about me. I'll be back. There are just other campfires that need me more urgently. Until then, don't stop believing in love. Because it is real. And it is there. It is always there, even when you can't see it. And it is the best thing there is in this life. But to grow, it needs time, understanding, acceptance, care, and respect. Maybe that's the biggest challenge and the most important thing: respect. Because, just like our two lovers in the story, people are very, very different. Respect each other, and believe in love. Everything else just sorts itself.”

The Seawolf smiled, turned, and before anyone could tell how and where, it disappeared, pretty much like it had come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you count [“A Simple Adventure”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22506916/chapters/53781583) as the prequel to this story I have worked on this narration since January. A whole year. And what a year! When I started, there was no lockdown in sight and Covid was just a rumor in another part of the world! I hope following this story carried you a bit through this difficult year, just like it carried me writing it.
> 
> And, well, because it is sad to say goodbye to something like this I commissioned The Patrex with giving us an idea of how a Seawolf looks like. Check their tumblr page here: <https://the-patrex.tumblr.com/>
> 
> There are campfires I need to tend to in real life and there are other stories I'm working on, so I will move to another campfire, not just disappear. If you happen to be a fan of the sadly discontinued BBC series “The Hour”, you might like to hop over to the [“The Hour Continued”](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013298) series which is about to embark into the next installment “Down South”. I will also keep writing the Herald Petrel when my beta is well enough again, and you for sure will find more Twelve/Clara stories somewhere down the line.
> 
> But, like the Seawolf said:
> 
> _Maybe tomorrow,_
> 
> _maybe next week,_
> 
> _maybe in a year,_
> 
> _maybe somewhere in between._
> 
> _You will see._


	38. Campfire (Artwork by @marshcaps)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story was with me for so long that I think it deserved something special. So, I commissioned the wonderful artist Valentina [@marshcaps](https://twitter.com/marshcaps) to draw the scene from [chapter 31](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24407377/chapters/67707707) where Twelve and Clara sit at the campfire. A special treat to my faithful readers, especially tounknowndestinations (Azalays), who never failed in commenting, which kept me writing.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, feedback, as always much appreciated! :3
> 
> If you like my writing, why not hop over on board of the ["Herald Petrel"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25167412/chapters/60987421)?
> 
> An explosion leaves cargo ship “Herald Petral” helplessly floating in space, and Captain Harold Galahad (preferably played by Peter Capaldi) is confronted with a situation very similar to the one that made him quit active duty years ago. He was only meant to be the replacement captain for this one flight. He knows barely anything about the ship and his crew, but now, the emergency demands him to be something he never wanted to be again – a real captain.


End file.
